Moon Scars
by Clio S.S
Summary: The world seemed indeed much less complicated when viewed from the perspective of the turnip field, but he was fated a different life. 15 chapters long story about how a bond is created. Updated with bonus and spinoffs. Please, enjoy!
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

Although their names differ, it can still be considered a fanfic about Masamune and Kojūrō. It's a story about how they met and how the deep, life-long bond between them was born, and it refers to their historical background. It's hard, however, to find reliable sources (and some contains mutually exclusive information), so this text can't be viewed as a historical (or any other) source. It's a literary fiction.

As usually, I tried to write as realistically as possible; however, I made two exceptions:

1/ That time, a lunar calendar was in use in Japan, but I decided to use "normal" month in my story to help the reader get a better grip of it.

2/ In Asia, it was a common concept that a newborns started at one year old (the Western system of age reckoning was introduced much later), but I decided to count the age of characters in "normal" way.

I also have to stress that I'm not an expert in the matters of Buddhism, Shinto etc., so the topic is only scratched at the surface. If you wish to learn more, please, turn to the professional literature.

The below is the translation from the Polish original, so please forgive me any errors. I'll add the chapters as soon as I have them translated.

Last and least: please, review. Never before have I written anything that would be even close to this story in the meaning of length, so I cannot really evaluate this. Still, I do hope you'll like it.

~Clio~

* * *

**~1~**  
**Encounter**

Dusk was inevitably approaching Ungan-ji. The ground had been already covered in the shadows; the last light of the sun was brushing the top of the temple and colouring the carved roof-beams with crimson. The interior was filled with this particular dimness that makes it possible to recognize the outline shapes and helps to believe that, somewhere, light still exists. The servants had just started to light the evening fire that, with its warm glow, would illuminate the sanctuary and emphasize its soft peace. The lamps in front of the statues of the Buddha were burning any time day or night, although their light couldn't make the face of deity more perfect.

Kagetsuna wasn't looking at the statues very closely; he hoped he would be forgiven for this by whoever might have seen him. Striding through the halls, he tried not to attract attention. _If it isn't mutually exclusive_, he thought behindhand. The servants, however, deep in thoughts or constant meditation, didn't intend to get away from their work. Their movements were marked with peace that comes only from devotion and belief, their faces were smiling, and their eyes were reaching, perhaps, all the way to nirvana. Nevertheless, Kagetsuna decided to slow - and quieten the squeak of the floor.

Actually, he wouldn't have been in such hurry if not for the time. Actually, had he not known the host, he would have left it for tomorrow, for the visit at such late hour was incompatible with etiquette. Now he could only reproach himself for such carelessness. He hadn't thought that it would take him so long to get here. And with no considerable stopovers... He stopped dead in his tracks and tried to see himself in the polished gold plate. A visit to a friend was a one thing, but the respect should be the same. What about his hair? Wasn't it tousled? After all, he had ridden the last part at full speed. He smoothed his hair and clothing down. _Really, have some good manners, Katakura Kagetsuna. You're a man, so don't behave like a kid in the backyard._

He smartened himself up - as much as it was possible in the dimmed light and with no real mirror. He mustered a serious look on his face - knitted his brow and tightened his lips - and entered the next room, his head up. And he stopped almost immediately, surprised.

He had expected another servants, occupied with their spirited work. Instead, he spotted a little boy, five-year-old at most, seeming very out of place in the evening atmosphere of the temple. Inwardly, Kagetsuna winced at the thought that perhaps his previous reflections on the age had called down this child. Having grown up, he still occasionally believed the thoughts had special power. _If these two things are even related._ Anyway, he really should be more careful...

Soon he realized it was a completely normal human being standing before him, however stunning his presence here might appear. Kagetsuna squinted. Strange. The boy didn't look as if he had lost himself. He was standing in front of the statue of Fudō Myō-ō, whom he regarded with a smile. Kagetsuna frowned; his eyes shifted to the frightening deity. How could a child so calmly observe such a stern lord that many adults couldn't look at without fear...? A light of lamp, flickering at the golden surface, made the face of Fudō even more alive and even more emphasized his anger. The shadows were dancing in the folds of his robe, creating an illusion of movement. And the boy couldn't take his eyes of him and was even smiling!

_Ah, he probably doesn't understand,_ Kagetsuna thought with some relief, but the words the boy uttered the very next moment put him straight. "He only looks so angry," the boy's voice rang clear and articulate, the way the children of his age use to speak. "Inside he is gentle and calm."

Kagetsuna blinked. He could expect anything, but certainly not being explained the secrets of the Buddhist pantheon to. And by the child, on top of it. His astonishment was yet to rise as the boy went on, "You look angry too," he declared and smiled again, regarding Kagetsuna attentively.

Two thoughts occurred to Kagetsuna at the same time: that he might have overdone with the serious expression he had tried to face the priest with, and that the unspoken part of the sentence could be truth in his case, too. Taken that, of course, a fourteen-years-old man might desire to be gentle and calm. At this age one wanted rather serve his lord and perform heroic acts in his name.

The boy was looking at him curiously, and Kagetsuna realized he himself wasn't making a good impression. Not that he should care about making a good impression on a child - he was too old for this already - but it was proper to behave with proud and dignity, regardless of the situation, while standing and gaping mutely was neither proud nor dignified. The thing was he didn't know what to say; in the presence of this strange child he felt uneasy. He raised his gaze over the boy's dark head and looked at the statue again.

"Do you like Fudō Myō-ō?" he asked, his eyes shifting to the small one.

A vigorous, very childish nod proved the answer. Something akin to an authentic adoration flickered in the boy's eyes. Kagetsuna was puzzled. Jizō and Kannon seemed much more suitable for children. If this boy had a reason to chose the ferocious divinity of fire for his idol, it meant he must have been exceptional indeed. It was only appropriate to know his name - for which Kagetsuna had to introduce himself.

"I'm Katakura Ka-" he started, but the words were drowned out when the high-pitched, female voice came from the corridor. "Bontenmaru-sama! Where are you? Bontenmaru-sama!"

Kagetsuna saw the boy winced barely visibly. Right away, however, he donned a calm, almost solemn, expression. _Very dignified,_ Kagetsuna realized, and suddenly it became obvious to him that the child standing before him was a nobility. He didn't need the respectful tone or honorific to know this.

But... Bontenmaru? What kind of name was it? The boy's parents must have put their hopes in him since they had chosen the Buddhist god of creation and demon slayer for his patron... *

The owner of the voice entered the room and gave a quiet cry. Kagetsuna's head turned in her direction, while he himself refrained from taking a step back. He didn't feel comfortable in the presence of women, and the fact she couldn't be much older than him didn't change anything. He quickly realized, however, all this was futile since she didn't spare him even a single glance. He might as well be somewhere else.

"Bontenmaru-sama! the woman repeated with relief and some timid reproach upon seeing the boy. "Your honourable mother is asking for you. She has come to visit you, thus she desires to spend time with you. Please, come."

Kagetsuna was under the impression the smile vanished from the boy's face. Well, not exactly vanished; it simply faded. His eyes grew darker, and the stars - sparkling in them only a moment ago when the boy had been talking about Fudō - went out. His shoulders sank a bit, yet he obeyed the lady, who gracefully gathered the tails of her exquisite robe to make a room for him.

In the doorway, the boy stopped as if he had just remembered something, then he turned around and made a polite bow to Kagetsuna. _He even managed to smile_, Kagetsuna realized and suddenly felt relieved at the thought, bowing back. The girl scanned him, having noticed him at last - or having decided to notice him - before she left, wrinkling her nose.

"Bontenmaru-sama," her voice came inside, ringing with a slight reprimand, "you are not obliged to bow to anyone, even less some servant..."

Kagetsuna reminded himself he ought to respect the women regardless of the circumstances. Apart from this, a fleeting reflection occurred to his mind: had he met a heir to the imperial throne, he wouldn't have possibly been more overwhelmed. He cast another glance at Fudō, as if wanting to know if the angry god was of the same opinion, but he got no other answer than the well-known stern look. Right, he shouldn't deal with the divine matters.

_Gentle and calm,_ crossed his mind with no particular reason before he remembered the original objective of his visit. He sighed inwardly, realizing it was very late already. He rushed from the outer temple towards the central building, never caring about the gravel that scattered from under his feet.

* * *

_Kosai Sōitsu is truly a great man_, Kagetsuna thought when he was finally sitting in the priest's room and silently awaiting the cup of tea the latter was preparing for him. Only now he started to realize the enormity of his offence: so carefree attitude to his task and, again, disrespect for the revered sage. Not only had he dawdled over his journey - or even planned it badly - but also he had let himself the further indolence, which had resulted in him being even more late. Perhaps he had thought that the superior of temple had enough time to wait for him the whole day? Even if the monks used to spend their days studying and praying, it didn't mean that he could bother them as he pleased.

He focused his eyes on the mat, but couldn't think of anything else than the calm face of the priest. A quiet rustle of the whisk was the only sound in the room. Well, one could hear also the cicadas in the garden. He lifted his head and cast the man a rather furtive look, for he didn't dare to distract him. Then he lowered his eyes again and asked himself if it wasn't the high time to start and consider his deeds before he would have done them. It seemed he didn't need much to revel in the sense of freedom and lose the serious grip on the reality.

"Kagetsuna-kun," the calm voice reached him. Kagetsuna thought it rang with some amusement. A steaming cup of tea had been pushed to his knees in an elegant move. "I don't intend to curse you to seven incarnations, even less send you straight to hell, so would you please stop looking like this?"

Kagetsuna regarded the priest again. "Once more, I beg your forgiveness," he uttered, bowing humbly. "I've failed to show you a due respect, Master."

"My dear boy, but I hold no grudge against you," a sympathy in the man's voice was evident now. "Though, if you really want to view it this way..." he added almost in a mischievous tone. "The longer you'll dwell on it, the more of my time you'll take up, and then I'll really have a reason to be displeased." Kagetsuna straightened himself, still unsure, and looked at him. "Therefore, we'd better come to the matter itself," Kosai suggested, lifting the cup to his mouth and observing him with vigilant eyes.

Kagetsuna took a deep breath, far from being relaxed. Master was, however, right, and he should consider it. "My honourable father and your faithful friend, Katakura Kagenaga, sends his regards and expresses his compliments. He holds you in high esteem and hopes your friendship will remain unchanged till the end of his life in this world," he recited almost pat answer.

Kosai nodded contentedly, and then something flickered in his eyes. "I doubt he sent you in the long journey only for this?" he asked, tilting his head.

Kagetsuna banished off the blush. "He sends... me as well," he spoke in a softer voice. "I am at your disposal, Master," he added and bowed again. Kosai raised his eyebrows. "My father is of the opinion I will gain from your teachings greatly," Kagetsuna went on, "and humbly asks... No, _I_ humbly ask for your wise guidance."

The priest put the cup aside on the mat. "Well, this is a surprise," he declared thoughtfully, his finger patting at the brim of cup. Kagetsuna looked at him, unsure. "My dear boy," the man's tone was slightly distracted, as if he was wondering about something, "first, I'd gladly hear about you. It's been a long time since we last met. I remember you as a child, while now it's only matter of days that you'll become a man. I suppose you haven't lounged around...?" his voice trailed off as the man encouraged Kagetsuna to answer.

The youth straightened up and smoothed out his shirt as if he was preparing himself to the public speech. "I spent my last four years studying," he began with hesitation, as if he wasn't sure what was it that the man wanted to hear. "I studied the Doctrine from Master Shōkei Sōshin in Zuigan-ji. This spring I returned to my honourable father and now I've been searching for my own way under his guidance," he ended in both formal and humble tone.

Kosai was observing him, brows frowned. "Did you like it in Zuigan-ji?" he asked, his gaze ever attentive.

Kagetsuna kept silent for a while, thinking of the words he should use. "It wasn't a matter of enjoyment," he spoke finally, "so I cannot answer your question. As for the teachings of Master Shōkei, however, I believe they will cast a light on any path I would tread," he explained. "Shōkei Sōshin is a man of a great mind, who did me an honour and shared his wisdom."

Kosai sipped his tea, his eyes weighing the youth up over it. A silence fell for a moment, ringing with song of cicadas and crackling of wicks.

"I cannot help but wonder why your father makes you fathom truths of the Buddha," the priest finally asked, and very directly, though, of course, he had the authority to do so.

Kagetsuna bowed his had as if he had been reprimanded though it hadn't be a case. He knew what Kosai meant. "For his all life as a warrior, my father felt protected by the spirits. He felt they were always close," he replied quietly. "After he had raised a heir, he put down his sword and devoted himself to Shinto completely. He says now he has a chance to be what he always wanted to be."

Kosai nodded. "Kagenaga is an example to others. He fulfils his vocation with zeal and faith," he spoke his mind. "He is strong in spirit and he knows how to serve the land and people."

Kagetsuna felt like smiling. A warmth filled his heart. "My father treads his path and carries out his mission," he said encouraged. "He says that his place is in that small village and that shrine. But the path he sees for me is different. He sent me out because he believes that I am fated another life," he explained. "He is of the opinion that the teachings of the Buddha will support me and show me the right way in the great world."

"The wisdom of the Buddha shines on everyone," Kosai claimed, nodding again, "the most the ones who seek for it. You're to be praised for aiming at the light." Kagetsuna kept silent, his gaze focused on the mat. "But tell me, my boy, what is the way that _you_ are looking for," the priest went on. "Are you willing to become a monk?" he asked outright.

Kagetsuna's head snapped up as he looked at the older man, holding back the answer that was already on his tongue.

"I can tell by your eyes you aren't," Kosai answered for him. "You want to follow the way of the warrior. And there's nothing wrong about it," he added gently, reaching for the cup again. "But you want to obey your father as well, which is laudable." He sipped the tea, thoughtful. "One explores the Truths throughout their whole life, while other needs only to be shown them to always follow them," he declared and fell silent.

Kagetsuna wasn't sure what the priest was driving at; still, he was listening to his words closely. It was not that he didn't want to stay here. He held the sage in high esteem and he was old enough to know he could gain from his teachings. He did wish to become a warrior, but it didn't mean he intended to turn down the options he was being given without a single thought. Even if those two months he had spent doing anything but studying the Doctrine gave him the sense of the real life, he was ready to resume the study. Even more that - like the priest had pointed out - he respected father along with his will.

"Did your father say he sent you here to study?" Kosai's intent voice roused him from his thoughts.

"No... As I said, he sent me at your disposal, aware it will have a good impact on my future."

Kosai nodded as if he had just heard something he had hoped to hear. "Splendid," he said and clapped his hands.

The servants brought the meal into the room; one of them lit more lamps, for it was already completely dark outside. Kagetsuna watched at the evening sky and the stars shining all over it. It occurred to him that sky in Zuigan-ji had looked the same...

"Be my guest," the warm voice broke his contemplation. "I bet you haven't eaten since morning. The meal is austere, but please enjoy it."

The smell was delicious. Kagetsuna felt the knot his stomach had turned into loosen up. During the day, he hadn't thought of eating, but now the hunger was double. Kosai might have considered the meal austere, but for him it was a feast.

"You do me too much honour, Master," he said, joining his hands to express his gratitude, and then he reached for the fish.

Kosai smiled widely, emptying his own rice bowl. Kagetsuna felt somewhat relieved, and the atmosphere of the place didn't seem so overwhelmingly hallowed. Perhaps it was for these additional lamps. Or for the prosaism of the meal itself...

"Tell me, Kagetsuna-kun, how is your father doing," the priest spoke. "We exchange the letters, but it's a rather formal correspondence. It's been a long time since we saw each other, too..."

"My father enjoys good health, Master," the youth rushed to answer. "Believing that spirits are everywhere, not only in the shrine, he spends most his time in the open, praying to them and praising them as he works."

"I remember he used to be very fond of the turnip fields..." Kosai threw in, his eyes twinkling.

Kagetsuna smiled. "The turnip fields spread all over the area," he stated, grinning. "The whole village benefits from them."

Kosai nodded. "Yes, that's Katakura Kagenaga, no doubt..."

The climate of the meal was very pleasant, and Kagetsuna managed to relax entirely. Finally, he decided the priest really didn't resent him for coming late - or hid it skilfully. This atmosphere of warmth, residing in the temple, calmed him down, until he felt like in a well-known and safe place. He looked outside again. The sky was the same everywhere... He spotted the crescent moon rising over the western skies.

"Master, I take up your time," he said, suddenly realizing it. "I thank you for such kind welcome," he added in a respectful tone and bowed.

"Today I recite some special prayers, so I'm not going to retire any time soon," the priest reassured him, with a wave ordering him to stay. "Lady Yoshihime asks for Amida Buddha's protection for her sons."

"Lady Yoshihime...?" Kagetsuna was under the impression this name rang a bell, but he couldn't remember. It seemed to belong to another life. "Who..." he started, but the priest was already replying.

"Since you've studied the Doctrine for so many years, it's only natural you forgot," his voice was understanding. "In fact, you are to be praised for such a detachment from the mundane world."

"Lady Yoshihime..." Kagetsuna repeated, tasting the words and making sure they sounded familiar. One moment more... one thought more and he would remember... Black hair done in the style suited for princess. Graceful, lofty gestures. Haughty look in the dark eyes that blazed in the beautiful face. He knew her. Undoubtedly, he knew her...

"Lady of Yonezawa Castle," Kosai prompted, and another well-know name made Kagetsuna's heart beat faster, but he had no more time to think. "Wife of Daimyo Date Terumune. Their first-born stays here to learn from me."

Kagetsuna was stunned. The little peace he had managed to find was dispelled now by another remorse. How...? How could this even be possible...? Really, the priest might have consoled him, but Kagetsuna himself didn't find any pride in the fact he had so easily forgotten about his years at the service of the Date clan.

"You used to be a page of Date Terumune, am I right?" it was more a statement than a question.

Kagetsuna nodded, unable to utter a word, overwhelmed by the feeling of guilt and his own wretchedness. Perhaps he should really dedicate himself to the priesthood if he had let it go out of his mind... the matters that once had been most important to him... that once had been giving him a meaning in life. Date Terumune. Daimyo. A great ruler of the whole domain...

What had he, Katakura Kagetsuna, been doing for the last two months? Running about in the woods and swinging a staff, that's what. He hadn't even bothered to learn how was his former master doing. _Fourteen years old, yet the brains of a child,_ he reproached himself inwardly.

He raised his head. Something Kosai had said clung to the edge of his mind. "Master, what have you said about Lady Yoshihime?" he asked in a humble tone.

Kosai looked at him, his head tilted. "She is visiting her son, who's been studying a Doctrine here since last spring."

"This small one is a heir to the Date family?" Kagetsuna called out, astonished, and only then realized he had spoken it aloud.

Kosai raised his brows. "Might it be that you've already met him?"

"I'm not sure," Kagetsuna replied... although, in fact, he was. Now that he thought about it, the amazing boy he had run into earlier couldn't be anyone else but the child of Date. One surprise after another... "He was standing in front of Fudō Myō-ō..."

Kosai smiled. "That's him, for sure. Bontenmaru took liking to Fudō at first sight," he explained cheerfully. "But what was he doing there? He was to be with his mother..."

Kagetsuna kept silent, deep in his thoughts. He had a dim recollection that, when father had taken him from Yonezawa-jō** to Zuigan-ji, Lady Yoshihime had been expecting a child. Date Terumune had been awaiting his first-born. He thought again of the boy, who had been gazing at the god of fire, eyes shining, and first what occurred to him was that the Date clan probably didn't have to worry about their future. Even though the samurai were forewarn of excessive passion in any matter, he was, after all, only a child. The boy would learn how to control the fire with iron will. The question was what he had inherited more of: the gentle calmness of his father or the capricious fierceness of his mother. Perhaps both? One was for sure already: the boy could see more than what was within sight.

"If his focus is well guided and his sense of purpose strengthened, he will grow up to become a daimyo that the Date have never seen before," he said with a thoughtful confidence.

He came back to earth when he realized that the echo of his words was long gone and only the singing of the cicadas was filling the silence, along with the sizzle of knots by the walls. Kosai Sōitsu was regarding him with a pensive yet attentive gaze. Kagetsuna lowered his eyes. What had he been thinking? Kosai's words, when the man finally broke the silence, didn't raise his spirits at all, "Perhaps we will make _you_ his teacher?" It was impossible to tell the man's true intentions from his tone.

"Master..." Kagetsuna felt he was blushing to the roots of his hair. Really. When would he learn to keep his tongue between his teeth?

"It was a joke," Kosai said, straightening up. "May Buddha protect you," he said suddenly and clapped his hands. A servant appeared in the doorway. "It's time for you to rest. Your room is ready. We shall talk tomorrow."

Kagetsuna jumped to his feet and bowed deeply. "Master, thank you for your kindness. May Buddha protect you," he replied solemnly and left after the servant, who slid the door shut.

Following the silent man down corridor, Kagetsuna came to the conclusion that father had been right once more: when viewed from the perspective of the turnip field, the world seemed much less complicated.

* * *

*Bonten – Sanskrit Brahmā; Hindi deity who created the universe; in Esoteric Buddhism in Japan they are i.a. protecting Buddhism and crushing evil demons.

**Yonezawa-jō – Yonezawa Castle


	2. Chapter 2

**~2~**  
**Old and new acquaintances **

* * *

The next day dawned with a joyful brightness of summer and promised to be as fine as the previous ones. Despite the fatigue after the travel, Kagetsuna got up early. He was too excited - although he tried to hide it - to have a lie-in. He didn't use to do it anyway. After the morning meditation, he went to the garden to ponder on his life in the open. Father used to say that morning is the best time for work, so at least this summer Kagetsuna had tended to spend a lot of time among the patches of turnip, and thus going out early had quickly become his habit.

He sat down on the bench under the apple tree, which branches were laden with nearly ripe fruit. _It's still a little more time to the harvest,_ he thought absently, staring at the couple of long-tailed tits in the nest. The silent cheep made him realize there was a whole bird family over his head... He mused.

He was sure it was soon time for him to leave the nest. Well, in fact, he had been staying out since he had been seven, but now he was thinking of nothing less than beginning an adult life. The following winter he was to turn fifteen, and it really seemed the final call. Most of his contemporaries had undergone a genpuku* and were already the adult men. What had father been thinking as he had sent him here to study again? He must have known that Kagetsuna had grown impatient to come to age.

Or, maybe... Kagetsuna felt the cold shiver down his spine. Maybe father had decided he was still too stupid to become a full-fledged samurai? He gulped. It was parents who bore responsibility for bringing up the next generation of decent citizens, so perhaps father was of the opinion his education shouldn't end yet? After all, how had he himself proved his father he already deserved to enter the adulthood...? Apart from the work on the land and the meditations in the shrine, he had loafed around, practising with a sword or peeping at the local ninja in the woods. Really, no wonder father had decided his son lacked qualifications. In fact, the more Kagetsuna thought about it, the more he agreed with him. It was possible he still needed many years to live up to father's expectations and grow up... Many long years...

He shook his head and patted his cheeks to sober himself. Apparently, he had gone too far in these dark visions. _No-one comes to age as a complete man,_ he realized. In fact, a genpuku was but a start to a real growth. Samurai was obliged to improve himself every day, which was even more difficult once officially labelled as an adult, for you had no mentor any more and you had to learn from life itself. Ha. Thus, he should value the opportunity to stay by Master Kosai, and work hard. On the other hand, if a genpuku ceremony was more a formality than a real transformation of a boy into a man, what was stopping father...

No. If he kept dwelling on it, he would go around in circles, never drawing any conclusion. He only had to wait patiently, and this he could do. If he occupied his mind with something, time would fly faster... and before he knew it, two swords would be hanging from his waist...

He was shaken out of his reverie by the piping of the long-tailed tits that circled over his head and flew away to find some food for its offspring. Kagetsuna looked at the sky. Its azure wasn't obscured by any clouds today... He squinted. The flowers before the mother's altar were always blue, and Kagetsuna had never asked why. It had just been like this. He couldn't remember her - she had died when he had been very small - as well as his earliest years in Yonezawa. He had been brought up by the aunt from Kaneyama, the only living relative he and his father had had. That time, his father had still served the Date family and divided his attention between consequent campaigns of his lord, and his son, left in the mountain village. Kagetsuna remembered the joy that had accompanied father's every visit and how he had always dreamt to become a great warrior like him. Now father's swords were lying in the shrine, dedicated to it, while father, with equal verve, was swinging a hoe or an ōnusa**. Once, Kagetsuna had hoped he would inherit the swords - it would be the greatest honour to him - but now he was of the opinion they should stay where they were.

He closed his eyes as the sunlight began to play with the leaves of the apple tree.

Father had asked to be discharged to devote himself to the priesthood and been granted his request. He had left Yonezawa never to return, settled in Kaneyama and taken over the responsibilities of the priest of local shrine, for the previous one had been already advanced in years. As his replacement in the Date court, he had sent his son. Kagetsuna remembered well his first days in Yonezawa Castle, and now he could only smile at them. He had been a serious seven-year-old and, as such, tried to keep up his spirit and hide his intimidation, only to be soon proved there had been nothing to fear. The head of the clan, Lord Terumune, whom Kagetsuna had served as a page, had turned out to be a calm and gentle man who had won faithfulness of his people. Kagetsuna had been no exception; he had quickly learned to admire his lord whole-heartedly...

He had spent three years in Yonezawa-jō, drinking in the great lifestyle of the samurai and zealously preparing himself to become one of them some day. When being sent to Zuigan-ji, he had been leaving the court with regret, but obedient to the paternity order. He had hoped that sometime he would come back.

How could this ever be possible that during last four years he had forgotten entirely about the most wonderful time of his life? He wasn't able to grasp it.

The ringing of the temple bell brought him back to reality. It was breakfast time. Earlier, he had informed the servant he would eat together with other guests. He never wanted to bother others with himself; besides, self-reliance was a virtue. A young acolyte showed him the way, and soon Kagetsuna was consuming his meal, surrounded by the pilgrims. The hall was crowded; obviously, the summertime was conductive to such trips. Observing the people over his rice bowl, Kagetsuna discovered their being so many didn't disturb the peace that filled the temple from the gates till the very core. A warm, friendly hum emanated the excitement that accompanied the pilgrims during their visit in the sacred place.

Kagetsuna realized he had grown very accustomed to such peaceful atmosphere, and wondered if he would miss it in the future. Or, perhaps, he would always pursue it from now on? He mused, slowly chewing the cooked vegetables. He had spent last four years in the temple similar to this. He had got used to its rhythms and the patient imperturbability of the Buddha. Sometimes it seemed possible for him to reach the state in which he felt like a stone in the river, letting the water flow around him. In such moments, he was under the impression that he, too, had his place in this world, and even though the world influenced him, he remained himself - humble in the face of the world's might. The coexistence was the only option; he didn't stand a chance alone. And he didn't want to try alone, never.

He finished his meal and returned to the garden, still in thoughts. What was it that he really wished for? _To become a warrior and serve my lord_, came automatically to mind. It was the answer that had been in him for so long he had stopped wonder about it. To serve his master was a samurai's sense of life; it was the greatest honour and the finest duty. Even now, thinking about it in the temple garden, he still felt the excitation engulf him and the exaltation well up in him. No, he had no doubts about his vocation. The father's example was enough. That he had seen many others in Yonezawa didn't really matter.

He leaned against the tree, looking back to them. He had glorified all of them, uncritically, without exception. He had been looking at their proud eyes and their heads up, their well-trained frames and the swords at their waists. They had embodied everything he had striven for. He had wanted to become like them one day and take pride in serving the Date as a man. Yes, now he remembered. He could never imagine doing anything else in his life. Upon thinking of this now, an unidentified feeling was surging inside him, so intense it hurt. He was under the impression that the ambitions he had had as a child were like a small stone rolling on the road when compared with the rock-slide that went off when he realized them on the threshold of adulthood.

He took a deep breath and looked at the azure sky, trying to calm down. _The passion never leads to anything good_, he reminded himself. When looking at them from a perspective of the years passed and the experience gained, he could tell that not all of those he had met in Yonezawa had been ideal. Then he hadn't noticed, understood or attached importance to some things, having his eyes fixed on their swords in the lacquered scabbards and the dignity in their steps. Some of them had really incarnated the honour, and the way of the warrior they had been treading had brought only credit to them and their master. Kagetsuna knew he would always carry the image of them in his mind and spend his life only trying to equal them.

However, there had been also those whose the first commandment of honour had been the concern for their own amenity. Haughty, boastful, pompous, self-satisfied. Treacherous, perfidious, capable of any evil. They had back-bitten their comrades while trying to curry favours with others at all cost. They had indulged themselves and never cared about the bushido,*** kept satisfying their passions and never shown any restraint. They had brought shame not only on themselves, but also the master they should have served.

Kagetsuna never wanted to be like them, not for anything. And he didn't mean the uncritical - and somewhat blind - following the guidelines. One thing he had learned while staying in Zuigan-ji was to be aware and truly responsible for his own actions. He would rather die than disgrace himself with a deed unworthy of a samurai - and he really believed it. What decided of his value as a man was how much he could be relied on. Only as a trustworthy person he could be of use to his master. And he was of the opinion that the trust was something to be earned; given freely it could only spoil a man. And, besides... He didn't want to be just a piece on the board, useful solely for its existence. He wanted to contribute to his lord's success in much more active way.

_Kagetsuna,_ he admonished himself. _Don't you think your thinking is somewhat conceited and deserves reprehension?_ He lowered his head and stared at the ants bustling around his feet. _Every lord has a whole lot of people at his back and call, wiser and more experienced than you, Katakura Kagetsuna. If you think you deserve his special notice, then it's vainglory that speaks through you._ Humility was a virtue. What was even more important, it was the people that constituted the master's power, people who were to serve and follow orders. People were the pillars supporting their master. A samurai's first and basic right was an obedience, and this manifested itself in executing his master's will. If everyone started to think over their duties instead of simply performing them, then the whole structure would collapse as it was solid only with everyone acting in accordance.

A sweet singing of lark came from somewhere up high, so he lifted his eyes to the sky again.

He had spent four years studying and if he got something out of it, that would be at least the knowledge that humility and obedience didn't actually have to contradict the personal growth. Every man - who, after all, had succeeded in attaining the rational form in this lifetime and had been reborn as a human being, not a plant or animal - was called to improve himself. Everyone had been given a gift for something and was obliged to develop it, which meant that mindless dashing forward and never sparing a moment for any reflection was a negligence. Katakura Kagetsuna was sure of one thing: he wasn't going to live his life mindlessly.

Anyway, all this was rather complicated. Master Shōkei would recommend the further meditation, which didn't seem that bad idea either. There was always chance that he would succeed to find a solution and somehow join those two, seemingly contradictory, concepts: an absolute allegiance to his lord and an independent mind.

He rested his head against the trunk and closed his eyes. First and foremost, however... he should "find" himself a lord to serve and undergo a genpuku, open order. Yet, he was stuck in Ungan-ji with no hope for one or the other. He might convince himself he was patient... but after he had just spent his morning pondering on his future, it wasn't so easy to suddenly take and forget about all these hopes and wishes. Yes, meditation would do him good, definitely.

He was about to return to his room, yet that very moment he spotted Master Kosai, who had just entered the garden and started to amble on the white sand of the alley. He was heading to Kagetsuna's side, which meant he hadn't forgotten his promise that they would go back to the topic, interrupted yesterday by the oncoming night.

Kagetsuna felt his heart leapt. Unconsciously, he clenched his fists as he was looking at the sunlight flickering in the priest's plain robe. Suddenly, it felt as if, along with the man, a moment when his future would be determined was drawing closer. However he looked at it, it was the superior of Ungan-ji that father had trusted his fate to. Kagetsuna would tell a lie, claiming he was at peace knowing it.

"Good morning, Master," he greeted the priest, head bowed, eyes fixed on his own feet.

"May Buddha protect us," Kosai spoke back. "I hope you have got some rest and your mind has cleared up in this holy place."

Kagetsuna swallowed. If it was really the case... In fact, he was under the impression that only his coming to the temple had piled the questions in his head, while life in Kaneyama - if only two months - had been rather uncomplicated and dominated by generally positive outlook for the future.

"I face the complexity of life and hope that the wisdom will be bestowed upon me," he replied bravely, raising his eyes.

Kosai gave him an attentive look. "I can tell you have many questions and doubts," he said outright.

Kagetsuna shook his head. "I wouldn't call them doubts," he proceeded cautiously. "However, I don't deny the questions," he added with some pain.

Kosai resumed his walk, giving Kagetsuna a sign to join him. "You demand a lot from yourself," he stated pensively. "And you're to be praised for this. I suppose I won't be wrong if I say that you apply yourself to the task given and try to achieve your objective with hard work. You don't wait for something to be given to you, but you want to deserve it," the priest went on, and Kagetsuna was amazed how easily the man was putting his recent thoughts into words. He kept silent, although it was rather hard to hear such compliments.

"However, keep it in mind that some things in our lives are beyond our control," Kosai warned him. "Who believe only in themselves, go against the Buddha and his truths, straying onto path of conceit. Every man is intended a way that they have to discover. Every man is destined a role that they have to fulfil. Don't try everything so forcefully and at once," his tone softened. "Wait for your day. Nothing is accidental. Your fate will find you in due time." He paused for a moment and then continued, "When rushing ahead, mind you don't overlook what life is offering to you. You won't make a mistake when your mind is clear and focused."

"You're telling me to be patient..." it was more a statement than question. Kagetsuna stared at the white sand. "I know it. I know it and understand it." He nodded.

"But your heart prompt you to something else. It pushes you forward. It forces you to constant action," Kosai suggested, smiling.

Kagetsuna looked at him, stopping dead in his track. "Master, your perspicacity is second to none," his voice was serious and bewildered. "In few words, you have expressed what took me many years of thinking. And after talking with me only a while."

"But you have managed to arrive at he same conclusions, haven't you?" the priest pointed out warmly. "Besides... we're talking about some general laws that apply to every man. And, apart from this, I was young once, too," he added, a twinkle in his eye.

Kagetsuna restarted walking, emboldened by the priest's amiability and calmed by his words. For a moment, they walked in silence. Everything Kosai had said made sense. Of course. Kagetsuna more than anyone else wanted to believe him. The problem was probably that he considered himself a man of action, not reflection. And it was true that he preferred to have the matters under control. It gave him confidence and provided direction he should proceed in. If only...

"We're here," a quiet voice roused him from thought. The priest had stopped.

Kagetsuna came back to reality. He lifted his head and blinked. They were still in the garden, probably in the inner part. The place was much more flowery and filled with butterflies. Yet it was not flowers and butterflies that caught his attention, but the sight they illustrated. He took a deep breath, surprised.

The summer garden made an exquisite background; still, it faded when compared with the fore-part. Kagetsuna was viewing a scene which beauty was both physical and symbolic. The central character was a woman sitting on a stool. Her kimono with heron, embroidered with gold, was arranged in elaborate folds. Two strands of black hair were hanging along her face, while the rest, tied at her neck, was falling onto her back, most likely reaching her hips. Looking at the oval of her face, the dark eyes burning with determination and self-confidence, Kagetsuna asked himself if he had ever seen something as perfect - although his mind had already known the answer. The woman was young, seemed twenty years old at the most, and her beauty still had the freshness of girl to it, but her attitude and glance were marked by maturity and dignity. She was slightly leaning forward, her attentive gaze fixed on the scroll that rested in the lap of the boy sitting next to her. At the same time, with her right hand, she was supporting another one, even younger, who played at her foot. Behind her, a teenage girl was holding an umbrella over her lady's head.

Kagetsuna looked at the older boy, who, in his childish voice, slowly, was reading his mother the scriptures. In the bright daylight, he seemed an obedience incarnated and an image of ideal child. It was hard to believe that only last evening there were burning emotions in his eyes and he was a real, living person. Now, his hair was neatly combed, and he was clad in a clothing made of fine fabric. He was clutching the scroll with his small hands and reciting its content, concentrated expression on his face, perhaps not the way an experienced monk would do, but definitely with proper dignity.

"Limitless is the extent of space. Limitless is the number of sentient beings. And limitless is the karma and delusions of beings."

"Such are the limits of my aspirations," added Kosai, coming closer.****

Kagetsuna started, almost astonished that someone dared to disturb the idyllic scene. The beautiful lady lifted her head and then nodded slightly, in respect for the priest. Her maid made a deeper bow. The older boy stood up and bowed to the master. The younger one was staring at the man round-eyed, clinging to mother's robe.

"Master Kosai," the lady spoke, smiling graciously, "you're doing us honour with your presence."

"My heart beholds you with joy," Kosai replied. "I couldn't leave without greeting."

Kagetsuna looked askance at him. He was under the strange impression that the priest had come exactly where he had wanted and planned to come from the very start. He was only disturbed by the fact why the man had brought him along.

"Then, let me thank you once again. You're taking care of my son and spare no efforts to educate him," she said and looked at the boy, who remained silent.

Kosai smiled. "As you can see by yourself, Bontenmaru applies himself to study. At this age, he already knows 'The King of Prayers'." He put a hand on the boy's head and gave him an approving look.

The boy flushed with joy. He must have rarely heard praises... Kagetsuna understood him well. These times, people used to believe that compliments may only harm children, so parents, not to mention other people, were rather reluctant to pay them. The lady slid her hand in the younger child's hair.

"Perhaps next year we will send Jikumaru to you, too, Master," she said thoughtfully and then gave the little one a smile. "Who knows, he may surpass his brother..."

Kagetsuna, focused on Bontenmaru, noticed a sad expression coming on his face before it was softened by a smile that seemed forced more than anything. He remembered the similar situation: yesterday the boy's joy had went out at the mention of mother. He didn't have time, however, to ponder on, seemingly not-so-ideal, relation between mother and son because that very moment Kosai turned his way and gave him a sign to come up. Kagetsuna felt a domineering gaze of the black eyes when the woman looked at him, lightly knitting her brows. He bowed deeply.

"Let me introduce to you Katakura Kagetsuna," he heard the priest's voice and felt his reassuring hand on the shoulder. "Kagetsuna, this is Lady Yoshihime, wife of Date Terumune, the daimyo of Yonezawa."

He straightened up, only to see that the wrinkle between the exquisite eyebrows deepened.

"Katakura...?" the woman replied, a question in her voice. It seemed she could barely remember. Well, he wasn't that much worse.

"My lady," he hurried to explain. "I served as a page under your lord, like my father, Katakura Kagenaga, before me. Still, many year have passed since either of us set foot in Yonezawa-jō, so it would be too great honour if you remembered me, madam."

Her hand was still playing with the younger son's hair, but her gaze clearly gave to understand that she was intensely thinking. She had always had a bad memory for servants, especially those lesser, but as a wife of daimyo she had to be familiar with his retainers.

"Katakura Kagenaga," she repeated. She already remembered. "He quit his duty to take care of a shrine in the mountain village, didn't he?" Every word was true, and the tone was unexceptional; still, somehow she managed to turn her statement into reprimand or insult. Or both at once.

Had she been a man, and Kagetsuna a samurai, and had he been sure he hadn't got it wrong, he would have considered drawing a sword to defend the honour of his father. Things being as they were, he could only swallow the words rushing onto his tongue and keep silent.

"Katakura Kagenaga performs a role that was entrusted to him like to each every one of us," a mild reprimand resounded in Kosai's calm voice.

It seemed that Yoshihime wanted to dispute, but she quickly controlled herself. She bent her head. "You are right, Master," she said humbly, and Kagetsuna didn't know if he should doubt her repentance, especially that she raised her eyes to him and asked with completely different expression, "How is your father doing? Is he in good health? Does he have a fortune on his side?"

"My father is well and fulfils his duty with dedication," he replied quickly, believing that good will heals the harm. "He enjoys good health, like in the old days when he fought under the banner of your lord. As for his fortune, he finds it both in shrine and in fields, amidst the patches of turnip," he finished, smiling inwardly.

Yoshihime gave him a look as if she was thinking whether she should be shocked or not. Jikumaru was staring at him with eyes like saucers, while Bontenmaru was openly devouring him with his eyes.

"He will be happy to know you asked for him, madam," he dared to add.

"Give him my regards," she commended proudly. "It had been many years since he bid my lord farewell and left Yonezawa. If I am correct..." She paused.

"Almost eight, my lady," Kagetsuna prompter her quickly. "That time, he sent me to take his place and serve the Date, what I did with honour."

Yoshihime knitted her eyebrows again. Now she seemed authentically interested. "If that's so, what have you been doing lately?" she asked outright, tone of her voice authoritative.

"My father wished that I studied doctrine and wisdom of Buddha in Zuigan-ji," he explained. "Now, also at his will, I am here," he added, trying to drive away the feeling of frustration that he had been struggling with for the whole morning.

Yoshihime looked him up and down. "And? What are you going to do?" This was another direct question.

"My father entrusted my future to reverend Master Kosai," his answer wasn't more than a whisper.

"Oh well," Yoshihime spoke in a tone suggesting that she lost her interest in him. It was, however, a mistake, and her next words proved it, "Don't forget that you're bound with the Date by the ties of obedience," she declared, something akin to warning in her voice. Kagetsuna, quite conceitedly, wondered if she had found in him something that she could make use of, or was it that she simply was concerned for her husband's position and thereby her own, too. He veered towards the latter.

"Do not worry," Kosai's voice becalmed the atmosphere once more, "I'm not going to take him away from you."

Kagetsuna's head snapped as he looked at the priest, but the man didn't reveal anything else.

"To serve the Date family has always been and will always be a greatest honour," Kagetsuna declared in a faltering voice, but whole-heartedly.

"Then you have to meet the next generation," Yoshihime said more gently, looking at her sons. One could almost have the impression she smiled. "Boys, where are your manners? Introduce yourselves."

"Bontenmaru, I'm almost five years old," the older boy made a very formal bow and so energetic that his long sleeves fluttered, never mention about his hair.

"Jikumaru," stuttered out the younger and then hid his face in mother's clothes.

Yoshihime regarded him with affection. "Jikumaru will be four," she informed, stroking his dark head.

One black eye appeared from behind the fold and gave Kagetsuna a shy look. The youth shifted his gaze between the boys and couldn't believe in the one year gap. Bontenmaru seemed much older, both physically and spiritually. Kagetsuna couldn't get their yesterday's encounter out of his head. The boy had somehow managed to disconcert him, while this kind of embarrassment shouldn't have been caused by a child. He had some dignity to him, as well as the feelings that no adult man would have been ashamed of. Jikumaru, clutching at his mother's robe, seemed to just open his eyes and look at the world he knew nothing about.

Of course, the most logical cause for this could be the fact that Bontenmaru was a heir to the clan, while Jikumaru wasn't. One of the boy had been accustomed to his role and future position, while the other could enjoy normal childhood. At the tender age of five, Bontenmaru recited the scriptures, while merely a year younger Jikumaru could play at his mother's foot, just like all small boys did.

Kagetsuna wondered. It could explain Yoshihime's behaviour, too. She had known from the very start that one of her sons would be taken from her very early to receive a proper education and prepare himself to take over the duties. She hadn't been allowed to become attached to him - and hence this, almost indifferent, treatment? Then, the other son belonged only to her, and she loved him doubly. She could spoil him as much as she pleased and show him whole affection she felt. Kagetsuna looked at her and her mature eyes in still young face. No, he shouldn't condemn her. In a way, it must have been tough for her too. He decided he would, at least, try to treat her with more sympathy.

Perhaps he could get to like her, which was a bold thought when referring to a wife of daimyo, whom he should indiscriminately _respect_, not just _like_. Anyway, she had many positive traits. _Don't judge a book by its cover, Katakura Kagetsuna,_ he reminded himself.

"I'm hungry," Jikumaru's voice shook him out of his reverie.

"You've just eaten," Bontenmaru commented in an innocent rebuke.

"But I'm hungry," Jikumaru repeated stubbornly.

At Yoshihime's sign, the maid took an apple from the basket and give it to the boy. "Jikumaru must eat a lot to grow up to be as big as father," Yoshihime declared, striking his silky hair, while he ate heartily, resting against her knees.

"Mother, may I read you some more?" Bontenmaru asked, seizing the scroll again.

"Later," she replied, staring at the younger son, who seemed to get sleepy.

"Yes, mother." Bontenmaru sat down, put the hands in his lap and fixed his eyes on the grass. Suddenly, he looked like a doll, a lifeless puppet put aside.

Master Kosai nodded and started walking away without any further word. Kagetsuna bowed, too, but the only answer was the attentive look of the maid. The idyllic scene became undisturbed again. Jikumaru was already sleeping; hand of his mother, who gently smiled at him, moving in his hair drove away all concerns, just like the apple a moment before. Bontenmaru only peeked at them and quickly looked down. Kagetsuna was to remember that furtive look, in which, it seemed to him, a sorrow was mixed up with some longing.

"After he comes back to Yonezawa-jō, he will be as lonely as here. Perhaps ever more," Kosai said rather enigmatically when they were in another part of the garden.

Kagetsuna could only agree with him.

And, for some unknown reason, he didn't feel well with this realization.

* * *

* genpuku - or genbuku; a historical Japanese coming-of-age ceremony for boys between the ages of 11 and 17

** ōnusa - or nusa; a wooden wand used in Shinto rituals

*** bushido - jap. bushidō , "the way of the warrior"; Japanese code of conduct for the samurai

**** fragment of "Samantabhadracarya pranidhana", eng. "Samantabhadra Devotions", also called "The King of Prayers", that is a part of the Avatamsaka Sutra, one of the most influential Mahayana sutras of East Asian Buddhism

_(wikipedia)_


	3. Chapter 3

**~3~**  
**Brothers **

* * *

The next days passed in the subconscious anticipation for something to happen. As a person decisive by nature, Kagetsuna ordered himself to keep calm and persevered. He had been long since accustomed to the rigorous rhythm of living in the temple, so he took an opportunity to focus on the things in front of his eyes, instead of wasting times on futile speculations about his future. He went to bed at dusk, got up at dawn, meditated a lot, participated in the group prayers, kept his body in a good shape - there was always plenty of physical job in the temple, especially on the fields - and he ate his meals in the hall with the pilgrims. He patiently waited for his day to come.

It might be that he was motivated by the thought of Bontenmaru. Sometimes, when he cleansed his face by the well and waited for his hair to dry up in the warm air, he let himself a reflection about the boy. Upon meeting him, he had realized the responsibility this child carried and the prize he paid for it. Or, perhaps, it wasn't the meeting itself, but Kosai's comment, that prompted him to further contemplation. Children of this country were required to grow up quite fast. Such was the requirement of the times, and Kagetsuna never thought he should question it, but even he considered it some kind of cruelty that four-year-old boy dealt with the matters of adults, if in a very limited range. When Kagetsuna thought of his own childhood, he remembered the years filled with play and fun - apart from the housework he had helped his aunt with - up till the age of seven and the beginning of his service in Yonezawa-jō. He'd run about the backyard, waved the wooden sword, played with toy soldiers and chased the kittens. And, even if already then he had wanted to quickly become an adult man, he had been allowed to grow up in peace.

Bontenmaru didn't have such option. He was the first-born of the great house - and it stood for everything. It changed everything. He differed from every other child in this land - and it couldn't be helped. He probably didn't even think about it. Kagetsuna, coming from the samurai family himself, knew that children used to bear such burdens proudly. He could imagine that the desire to be someone else had never crossed Bontenmaru's mind. Being shaped since his childhood to one role, he probably didn't see any other path for himself. The awareness that one day he would become the head of the Date clan most likely filled him only with joy and pride - even if he still didn't realize what it meant and didn't know the magnitude of his future authority. His duties were definitive, and the obligation to the family was inviolable.

It didn't change the fact it, still, must have been hard for him, yet he endured it without as much as word of complaint. A little prince who emanated majesty. Kagetsuna suddenly wished for something infeasible: he would like to see the boy chasing the kittens...

In any case, the thing was that the boy didn't riot, didn't get frustrated and didn't complain. Kagetsuna came to the conclusion that his own concerns, in comparison, were misplaced, and this was why he managed to quit the idle discussion with his own and occupy himself with something useful. He had to trust father and Master Kosai. He remembered the latter's words to calmly await his turn, believing in Buddha. It wasn't that stupid: to turn the responsibility to someone else when it was still possible.

He came back from the field, left the baskets of radish in the kitchen and went to take the bath. Afterwards, he made his way to the gardens. The day was too beautiful to waste it inside the building, and he could as well meditate in the shadow of a tree. He leant against the ginkgo, relaxing his muscles, already comfortable after the bath, and folded his hands. He closed his eyes shut, focusing on his mind that, as always, appeared before him as a vast meadow. The high grass was swaying in the wind, yellow under the sun, trying to reach the blue sky... In this desolated place every sound had its meaning, and no-change could remained unnoticed. Kagetsuna looked around, slowly, gazing even at the soil between the blades and the deep shadows under the distant trees. When he reached the conclusion that nothing had been different from the last time, and planned to blend into the scenery of his soul, he heard a quiet laugh of a child.

It took him quite the while to understand that the laugh was a real thing. He opened his eyes, bewildered and unable to tell how long he had meditated - a few minutes, or perhaps whole hours? He turned his head. Amongst the bushes, he spotted a woman and child. He couldn't decide whether he was relieved or disappointed upon realizing they were the complete strangers to him. Behind them he saw a man wearing hakama*. A samurai family, he thought, apparently pilgrims. They walked past him with deliberate steps. A girl, clad in colourful kimono, seemed like a butterfly among the flowers. Her cheerful laughter carried like bells over the greenness of garden.

Kagetsuna sighed. It seemed that he wouldn't get to meditate today. Indeed, he had chosen quite unfortunate place. Usually pilgrims didn't get as far as here, but today he was out of luck. He spotted another group appearing from behind a hedge. Well, he might as well sit here, relishing the beauty of nature. Besides, he was under the impression he wouldn't focus anyway. The family from a moment ago had managed to shattered his concentration. He followed a woman in light coloured kimono with his eyes, looking absently at the sunlight glittering in her sleek hair.

After that day he hadn't seen Lady Yoshihime any more. It wasn't that he had deliberately avoided her; he simply had another activities than meetings with the wives of daimyo. Furthermore, he was sure they would meet again. She had been right, saying straight that the Katakura were bound with the Date by the ties of obedience. When he thought about it, he saw there was only one option for him: to come back to Yonezawa Castle, sooner or later. It was probable this knowledge, too, had helped him to settle down and cease the pointless deliberations. Now he felt ashamed he hadn't come up with it himself...

He wondered about the impression Yoshihime had made on him. He didn't remember her that well from the time of his courtly service. He had been, after all, a page of Lord Terumune, whose wife occupied a different wing of a castle. Of course, he remembered her as a beauty whom no-one could compare with - at least, that was what they had used to say. She had been called the Princess of North, and her fairness had been well known. She was still beautiful; her figure was still straight and graceful, like reed from her name. Yet, he could also recollect that servants had feared her and called her far less flattering names between themselves - if they had dared. She had been capricious and impetuous, her anger had been frightening and her revenge bitter. Her greatest advantage and the most dangerous weapon at the same time had been her keen mind, surpassing even her famed looks. Even if Kagetsuna hadn't understood it then, now he had no doubts about it. Yoshihime, daughter of the Mogami clan - the only who could equal the Date in the North - wasn't stupid and could make use of it. Her thought was fast; her deduction was incisive. Her personality and intellect, along with her position that only heightened her firm and authoritative manners, made it clear to Kagetsuna that he would never want to have an enemy in her. However, he wasn't sure if he would ever have a friend in her...

He shook his head. Those weren't decent thoughts and, at least, out of place. Still, he knew where they originated from: he wanted to see a human in Lady Yoshihime - and, through this, a mother for Bontenmaru, too. He hadn't got the slightest idea why it seemed so important to him. However, he remembered Kosai's words that expressed his feelings he couldn't define himself: he felt bad with the idea that little Bontenmaru, who had likely accepted - not sparing a single thought for it - the fact he would never have a normal childhood, would be forced to accept also that he wouldn't have anyone truly close. Even if he hadn't been so bright, he could have sense it, for children seemed exceptionally skilful at this. But Bontenmaru was intelligent, which didn't help anything. On his part, Kagetsuna couldn't drive away the feeling that Kosai had thrown that comment in for the purpose only he knew - he was cunning enough to do it - but he hadn't got the faintest notion of the priest's intents.

He folded hands behind his head and looked up at the sky through the branches of tree.

He was the only child; his aunt didn't have any for her own. He didn't know what it meant to have brother or sister. He always thought it to be something nice and warm, something related to care and protection. He had a vague memory of himself, still very small, secretly dreaming of a younger family member, whom he could look after and help with everything. And, of course, be a reliable older brother to. Relation between Bontenmaru and Jikumaru didn't seem so cheerful, though - if he had any right to draw such conclusion from one short meeting, of course. Actually, had it been not for their physical resemblance, they would hardly been considered siblings, for there appeared to be so little of anything between them. The younger's whole world was filled by his mother, with brother appearing somewhere on the edge - if he managed to emerge from her shadow. Similarly, the whole world of mother was filled by the younger son, which left little space for his brother.

In such situation, any adult would turn around and walk away. A child, however, didn't have such option - what was left for him, then? Kagetsuna didn't know. Somewhere in his mind, there was the unpleasant thought - or perhaps only a question? - if it could have some consequences for the Date family and their prosperity. If Lady Yoshihime was to cause the Date troubles... Kagetsuna clenched his fists and only after a while noticed it. He felt a pang in his chest.

He cared deeply about the Date clan's welfare. It was an obviousness he hadn't realized until now. He had known the heir to the family only few days, yet he already felt attached to him. He knew he would serve him with equal devotion and reverence he had once served Lord Terumune, whom the boy, by the way, resembled - as far as Kagetsuna remembered the daimyo - while his brother was rather the very spitting image of his mother, with those big dark eyes, round face and sleek hair. Bontenmaru's hair always seemed a bit unruly, and the boy itself, in certain circumstances, was able to suddenly blaze and fill with bewildering light. Kagetsuna doubted Jikumaru was capable of such thing; the image he carried in his mind involved a docile little boy who clung to his mother's kimono. And what felt even impossible to imagine was Jikumaru standing in front of the statue of Fudō Myō-ō.

He recalled his earlier reflection about the proper guidance that would help get the boy's best qualities out and perfect others. Who could see to this? Surely not Master Kosai, who - apart from his wisdom and sharp mind - had been called to other things than upbringing the future daimyo. It was unclear how long the boy would have to stay here - and even though he undeniably benefited from the Buddha's teachings, it could be not enough. At the same time, in Yonezawa, Lady Yoshihime would, before everybody's very eyes, educate her other son for...

He shook his head. Those weren't proper thoughts and even unacceptable. _You'd better forget Lady Yoshihime and Jikumaru, Katakura Kagetsuna. Focus on what is here and now._

The thing was the more he focused on what was here and now, the more alarmed and irritated he became in the process.

_Katakura Kagetsuna, who are you to shoulder the responsibility for the Date family's prosperity? Now, see for yourself: you even feel_ responsible _for this. Conceit and arrogance, no less. You'd better go and pray to the holy Buddha since staying outdoor apparently doesn't do you any good._

It wasn't that bad idea, he realized after a while, all confused. He would drink some water, too, since his throat was dry. He got up and headed for the main temple, only on the way finding that his legs were leading him rather to the rooms Master Kosai used to spend his day-time in. He stopped dead in his tracks, setting his teeth.

Eventually, he gave up and resumed his walk. He was - a future - retainer of the Date. It was his duty to care about their well-being and glory. If he had the reason for concern, it was his right - if not obligation - to speak loudly and demand to be heard out. Awkwardness and pathos of this motive were obvious, but his concern was genuine. He hoped Master Kosai would dissipate his anxiety. The sage's help seemed invaluable in such a situation.

He was to be disappointed very soon: he didn't find the priest in the place he had expected to. An acolyte informed him Kosai would be busy till late. Kagetsuna had to make do with this knowledge, but it left him empty-handed. It really seemed a good moment to greet the golden Buddha, he thought, going out into the courtyard.

It must have been well past mid-day, he reflected, lifting his head to the sky and realizing that the sun had already gone past the highest point. He had completely lost count of time... He lowered his eyes onto the temple roofs - and spotted the small figure occupying one of the higher cloisters. He identified Bontenmaru right away.

The boy was leaning over the balustrade and looking towards south, squinting. The sunlight was still dazzling, but he didn't even try to shield his eyes; his hands were clenching the handrail. There was something sad about him, and Kagetsuna didn't know the reason for it. But, he realized, he wanted to know.

It took him a while to find a way, but soon he stood next to the boy, who didn't seem to even stir, maintaining his pose and intensely gazing at the distant hills. He must have, however, noticed the sudden company, for suddenly he looked aside, raising his head. His eyes grew wider, and Kagetsuna knew he had been recognized. He should bow, but somehow it didn't the best idea - here and now. The boy looked away again.

"Mother has left," he spoke in completely calm voice, which sounded almost shocking.

Kagetsuna was under the vague impression that a child should sob in such circumstances - and he wasn't sure whether he should be proud of Bontenmaru or the contrary. He turned his sight away and followed the boy's. So, Lady Yoshihime had left. Now that he thought about it, he had indeed seen a procession leaving the temple and heading for the southern high-road, earlier in the morning. That time, however, he had stayed in too pleasant state of blankness caused by the monotonous physical labour to wonder whom it could have belonged to - although there was only one answer.

"But you haven't been here since then?" he asked cautiously.

The boy shook his head, never taking his eyes off the horizon. "I had my lessons, like everyday," he replied casually yet with some, it seemed, unwanted regret.

Nevertheless, Kagetsuna was reassured. The vision of the boy standing here since morning would be unbearable. "She will come soon again," he said rather intuitively, wanting to cheer the boy up. "Does she visit you often?"

Bontenmaru shook his head again. "It was the second time," he said in the same intonation as before.

Kagetsuna held back a sigh. According to Master Kosai, the boy had been staying here since spring... "And... your father?" he dared to ask.

"Father is busy," Bontenmaru answered in a tone as if he was reciting a learned formula or repeating someone else's words. Soon, however, he lightened up and looked Kagetsuna in the eye. "But I'm going to visit home for birthday!" he called with a smile.

Kagetsuna blinked. He would have to get accustomed to the bewildering changes of mood that Bontenmaru seemed to often exhibit. He blinked again, seeing in front of him the shining eyes and beaming face. It was already a second time when he felt dumbfounded in the presence of this boy, who regarded him with that bright gaze. Although, he realized a strange thing, he definitely preferred to see him like this, even if he himself was to seem a half-wit.

"When is your birthday?" he asked, trying to regroup.

"Next month," was the contented answer.

Well, it was indeed something to be happy about, Kagetsuna thought. Even if it probably felt like an eternity, for a child. But he must have already get used to it. If mother had visited him only twice during these last months... he must have learned to wait. And waiting for something was definitely better than waiting for nothing.

"And you're going to turn five, right?" it was more a statement than a question.

Bontenmaru nodded, dignity and proud mixing on his face. Then, however, he lifted his eyes on Kagetsuna. "And you? How old are you?" he asked, his look curious.

"Fourteen. But it's still some time until my birthday."

For a while, the boy was regarding him with an evident respect, then he lowered his eyes onto Kagetsuna's waist. "But you're not a samurai yet?" he made sure. Even if it was the opposite, no-one was allowed into the temple with arms.

"I hope to become one soon," Kagetsuna replied sincerely, "Like my father before me," he repeated his earlier words.

"Your name is Katakura Kagetsuna, isn't it?" the boy asked in rather formal tone and, upon getting a positive answer, he added, "May I call you Kagetsuna?"

"I will be honoured, Bontenmaru-sama."

Bontenmaru nodded and sat down on the wooden floor, pulling knees to his chest. Then he gave Kagetsuna an encouraging, though shy, look. "You may sit down," he spoke with some hesitation. "I permit you to sit in my presence," he added authoritatively and for sure preventively.

It seemed that the next head of the Date liked to make the things simple. Kagetsuna held back a smile; after all, it wasn't proper to laugh at future daimyo. Actually, he hadn't known that children were that funny, he realized, but where might he have learned it? In Zuigan-ji? "Thank you, Bontenmaru-sama," he replied, sitting down next to him.

"You said that your father was a samurai, but he isn't any more?" the boy asked, staring at him.

"He become a priest of the shrine," Kagetsuna explained.

"I didn't know something like this is possible," Bontenmaru said, frowning.

"He felt that he had obligations to someone else, and your honourable father acknowledged his reasons and relieved him from service."

The boy's face expressed an utmost concentration. "I thought that every man is given one way he shouldn't stray from," he spoke more to himself and then looked at Kagetsuna with a question.

_Oi, Kagetsuna, don't start from confusing the child and future daimyo,_ the youth reminded himself. _You've said it yourself that the boy need to have his sense of purpose strengthened._

"Life is a great mystery, Bontenmaru-sama," he declared. "We never know when we will hear a voice calling us to something else than what was planned for us before." He hoped it would reassure the boy. "You are fated the ruler's life and you should think about this role," he added, although those words didn't fill him with the appropriate excitement.

The boy nodded slowly. Kagetsuna watched him closely and was pleased with what he saw. The little one's eyes were still shining, even though Kagetsuna had deliberately steered him towards the difficult topic. It probably meant that Bontenmaru didn't evade the responsibility, although it required some sacrifices. He accepted his future role as an honour and pride, just like Kagetsuna had expected of him. Even if his gaze darkened a bit, it seemed more like a conscious calming, not putting out a flame. Bontenmaru was still alive when thinking of his future as a heir to the family. So it wasn't it.

"Where is your father now?" another question snapped Kagetsuna out of his reverie. "In the mountains?"

"Yes. Our... home is there," he answered, surprised at how hard those words were to be spoken. "Although," he added, "I've been spending last years anywhere but home." He shook his head. "Anyway, my father lives there."

"And he has a shrine?" the boy's curiosity was authentic. Well, it wouldn't do him any harm if he occupied his mind with something else.

"He takes care of it. It's such a small shrine, out of the way, but the villagers visit it often," Kagetsuna talked, recollecting the days he had spent there this summer.

"Does he hold many services?" was the next inquire.

"I don't know if many. I'm not so well versed in this," Kagetsuna added in almost apologetic tone. "Anyway, he doesn't loaf around. When not in the shrine, he is on the fields."

"Of turnip?" the boy suggested.

"Oh, he cultivates many things. But it's true that he is especially fond of turnip," Kagetsuna admitted with a smile.

The boy was devouring him with eyes that flashed again. "Splendid!"

Kagetsuna regarded him, rather surprised. Really, if someone had told him that the future head of Date would marvel at the cultivation of turnip, he wouldn't have believed. However, having more life experience, he had to agree it was indeed... marvellous. "The physical work is good for the body," he declared. "It's a good training, too."

Bontenmaru observed him closely and then guessed, "You work in the fields, too." There was some awe in his calm voice.

Kagetsuna nodded. "The temple has a lot of fields, and there's always work for the extra pair of hands. Besides, even if it may sound funny... such work relaxes."

The boy still eyed him with that attentive look. "When I'm bored or tired of learning, I try to do something," he said finally. "Do you think it's something similar?"

Kagetsuna looked at him, once again amazed at his acuity. It seemed that amazement was not longer that far from admiration. "I think so. It's good to occupy your mind with something else, so that you can come back to the actual work later." It couldn't possibly be too dangerous for Bontenmaru's motivation, could it? "Are you... often tired of learning?" he asked innocently.

"No-o," the boy answered reluctantly. "Only those Chinese texts are so difficult. Sometimes they give me a headache," he confessed.

Kagetsuna didn't intend to reprove him. At the age of five, he himself had known just a handful of Chinese characters. Those simplest, on top of it. "I'm sure you will manage it," he reassured the boy. "You don't have to learn them all at once. Besides..." How was he supposed to say it? "What's important is to understand their content, not the words."

"You're talking like Master Kosai."

Kagetsuna blushed. "I spent some years in the temple, too," he uttered. "Anyway, if I'm correct, Master Kosai doesn't make you learn them by heart?"

Bontenmaru shook his head. "Still, they are important. I know it," he put seriously and then smiled widely. "They are like Fudō Myō-ō: scary outside and good inside," he declared with a flash in his eye.

Kagetsuna was speechless.

"Can we go see him?" The boy jumped to his feet, beaming.

"You don't have to ask me for permission, Bontenmaru-sama," Kagetsuna muttered, perplexed, getting up.

"But I want you to go with me," the little one explained, still bursting with enthusiasm.

"All right, Bontenmaru-sama," Kagetsuna answered, having the vague impression that he had already lost.

And he didn't feel bad with this strange realization, he thought, trying to hold back his smile as he was following the boy on the wooded floor.

Wrong was whoever expected that Fudō would appear less frightening in the daylight. Still, the future head of the Date family was regarding him with admiration that other children spared for their loved ones. Kagetsuna suspected that, if Fudō suddenly came to life and got off the altar, Bontenmaru wouldn't be happier. A question that kept nagging him was: were all children like this? He thought, however, he already knew the answer.

It seemed that boy could easily spent ages here. Who knew if he didn't talk to the god? Kagetsuna almost shivered. Little by little, Bontenmaru's smile grew more and more ecstatic. Kagetsuna decided to disrupt this adoration, but the boy didn't seem to hold it against him. He hoped the deity didn't either.

"Why do you like Fudō Myō-ō so much?" he asked.

"Because he is scary on the outside and good inside," was the instant answer.

"Only this?" Kagetsuna frowned.

The boy turned his sight away from the fearful face of deity and looked at Kagetsuna seriously. A smile vanished from his lips. "Do you think it's not enough?" he asked with a concern.

"No, it's not what I meant," Kagetsuna hurried to reassure him. "I though it was rather... unusual reason," he finished, hoping it didn't sound false.

Bontenmaru mused. "He is... different," he declared after a while. "He is different from others," he added with confidence. "Buddha is always smiling. Jizō and Kannon too. You can tell all about them just by looking at them," he explained, while Kagetsuna was astonished that the boy was speaking about the deities like his good friends.

"It's good that he is different?" he asked, puzzled. What was this child thinking? To be different was never seen anything welcome...

The boy, however, firmly nodded. "They fear him although there's no reason for it. At first, he inspires awe, but once they get to know him, they learn he isn't fearsome."

Kagetsuna felt like scratching his head. "But if it was the other way round... Wouldn't it be better?" he asked. "It would give you more prospect."

Bontenmaru looked at him attentively, and Kagetsuna felt almost ashamed under this gaze although the boy didn't say anything. The other way round wouldn't be right or fair. It would be deceitful and dishonourable. It would be... like Lady Yoshihime, who hid her scary interior behind the beautiful face. His eyes widened. The boy looked at the statue again.

"Father is like Jizō," he stated in a quiet and dispassionate voice, but then added with firm conviction, "I want to be like Fudō Myō-ō."

As if wanting to emphasize his words, the temple bell rang. Bontenmaru turned away from the deity and regarded Kagetsuna. "I must go," he said, "although I'd rather..." He paused. "I wish..." he started again, but didn't finish. He lowered his head. He looked exactly like a five-year-old boy that he was.

Kagetsuna knelt by him. "Bontemaru-sama," he spoke in a softer voice. "Tomorrow we can come here, too. Or we can go somewhere else and do something nice." The boy lifted his eyes on him. Kagetsuna smiled. "I will be honoured to keep you company," he assured the boy. "After all, I stay here just like you," he added in a tone of understanding.

After a moment of hesitation, the boy nodded. Kagetsuna put a hand on his head. Bontenmaru froze, and then his face brightened with such a smile that Kagetsuna felt a pang in his chest.

"See you tomorrow, Kagetsuna," the future head of the Date decided and left the room at a cracking pace.

"See you, Bontenmaru-sama," his future retainer answered.

* * *

Long was he sitting next to the statue of Fudō, trying to collect thoughts. Fudō must have deterred the potential visitors, for he was staying there undisturbed by no-one. Bontenmaru's steps had long trailed off, but he was still hearing the words the boy had spoken. And there was more... He raised the hand before his eyes; its fingers still felt the softness of the boy's hair. And that smile... Once again, his heart pained. Only now he fully understood what Master Kosai meant.

The boy must have been horribly lonely. Sent from home, where he rarely seen his father and where his mother displayed affection only for her other son. He had been treated solely as a heir by everyone and dictated the role of a man, not child. If he reacted to one simple gesture with such explosion of joy, he must have missed closeness very much, and so he clung to everyone who gave him some attention.

It was not right.

A conceited thought crossed Kagetsuna's mind, and he cast a glance at Fudō Myō-ō, as if suspecting the deity for provoking it. He was answered by a stern glance, only confirming him in his conceit. Still, he didn't abandon it.

Bontenmaru undoubtedly deserved someone who simply would be around. Close to him. Not as a servant or retainer, but... like an older brother. Kagetsuna took a deep breath and closed his eyes to calm the chaos that suddenly filled him.

It was a truly conceited thought indeed, and he was terrified by the very realization he had dared to produce it - but his mind had to give in to his heart, that didn't want anything more than to be at the boy's side as long as possible. Not only during his stay in the temple, but much longer. He had never had siblings; now he suddenly realized he might have got a chance.

Soft sunlight was coming through the window, casting a red spot of gold onto the wall. Kagetsuna felt the peace overcome him, which was strange itself, considering the general situation. Still, the chaos was slowly receding and clearing up. Kagetsuna was under the impression that the grass parted, showing the path that had been hid until now.

Master Kosai had been right. As usual.

He was too shocked, though, to even give a smile.

* * *

*hakama - wide, pleated trousers that formerly only samurai men were allowed to wear


	4. Chapter 4

**~4~**  
**Learning **

* * *

Kagetsuna was pretty surprised, realizing next morning that he had slept as well as always. He had gone to bed filled with various sensations and not necessarily in condition to sleep; still, he must have zonked out at some point, and the night had passed without any disturbance. He had a feeling he had dreamt of the swaying fields of turnip, or something equally prosaic and well-known. He wasn't that kind of person who conquered the world in a dream.

In daylight - probably due to the harvest work, too - he managed to quite effectively suppress and stifle most of his chaotic thoughts and, especially, feelings from the previous day, but the rest of them pulsated evenly with determination. Which was, in fact, strange.

He dried his hair with a towel, distracted.

Until now he hadn't had any goal to pursue and focus on. Being an obedient son, he had been fulfilling his father's will and waiting for the day to grow up and serve his lord. It had been and should be like this, by all standards. But now something had appeared in his life, shaken him forcefully and got his whole attention focused on. And it felt strange.

Passion wasn't a virtue, but it probably was not the case now, he reassured himself.

He threw the towel aside and changed into his normal clothing.

By the way, what also felt strange was the fact he had seemed to indeed find a path he had sought, or, at least, declared to seek. Now he wasn't even sure if he had really believed in the destiny. It was quite blasphemous thinking, but he wanted to be honest with himself. It was easy to debate something you had no prospects for, but it was much more difficult to accept it once it had happened.

He tapped his forehead, which sometimes helped him calm his thoughts when too much of them and, above all, not so logical appeared in his brain. _Katakura Kagetsuna, concentrate and stop deny what you have believed in for ages. Older and wiser than you were right and told you to await your time. Thus, you waited and hoped - so now you shouldn't panic, should you?_

Involuntarily, he tensed. No, he didn't intend to be afraid. He intended to go ahead and pursue his goal.

_Katakura Kagetsuna, you really think too much,_ he decided finally and tried to focus on reality. Starting every day with reflection on his own existence, present or future, could end badly, while it didn't make any significant changes in this existence anyway.

Still, he knew he wasn't able _not_ to think. And, in fact, he didn't want to. Master Shōkei had encouraged him to learn about his mind not only through meditation but also discussion with himself.

He hoped that today he would get to talk with Kosai. Maybe... maybe he could tell the priest about his feelings and... ask for aid? He stopped dead. It seemed to him he already knew the sage's answer. Now he was under the impression that Master Kosai might have predicted something like this. He might have awaited, expected and... counted on?

Kagetsuna felt perturbed. No, it was far too bold presumption. He wasn't anything special. He didn't stand out from others. He didn't deserve any more attention. He shook his head. It didn't change the fact, though, that if he was to be of use for the Date family, he would be honoured.

Although... Now that he thought about it... He felt that, since yesterday evening, Bontenmaru's being a future head of the Date didn't matter so much any more.

He clenched his fists. Something was off. As if, unconsciously, he felt uncomfortable and couldn't define it. On the other hand, it might have been a very normal reaction to the change that had happened in him - or happened in his world. He wasn't accustomed to... He had never felt like this before...

He turned on his heel, returned to the baths, drew a pail of water from the well and plunged his head in.

Quite soon he came to the conclusion he was able to think reasonably again.

His hair was drying up fast in the sunlight of August as he was crossing the courtyard, without paying attention to curious looks of monks. Head up and eyes focused, he headed for the library. Today he was lucky; at once, he spotted Kosai's figure among the group of acolytes. Then, however, he thought that it was perhaps high time to try and trust his own instincts, not rush to older and wiser ones for advice in every little matter; it wouldn't take him anywhere.

For a moment, he stood in the doorway, but then he decided he should at least greet the priest. When Kosai noticed him, he bowed with respect.

"Kagetsuna-kun, so early on your feet," Kosai called to him, a flash in his eye.

Kagetsuna gave him an austere look. "The sun is already high in the sky, Master," he replied.

"Boys at your age like to sleep longer," the priest retorted. Kagetsuna straightened, but didn't say anything. Kosai laughed quietly and came closer. "I was joking, my boy. I know you are disciplined and work already at dawn. You mustn't be so serious about everything," he advised Kagetsuna warmly.

"With all due respect, Master, I cannot afford frivolity at this age."

Kosai raised his eyebrows, astonished. "Indeed, your eloquence is not of a child. Still, I hope you will reach the age when you will be able to turn away from such sternness. But," Kosai observed him closer, "I can tell from your eyes that... You have made a decision," he said, pensive. "Might it be that it made you so serious?"

Kagetsuna sighed. "Nothing won't escape your notice, Master. No wonder everyone thinks highly of you," he replied.

The priest waited. Suddenly, Kagetsuna realized he didn't know how to express what he had come here with - or, what he had come with yesterday. Not because he didn't know what he wanted to say, but because it was one thing to only think about it and it was quite another to say it aloud. Thus, he kept silent, his brows knitted, eyes fixed on the floor. A touch of hand on his shoulder made him raise his gaze. The priest's gesture was supporting and reassuring. Kagetsuna looked at him gratefully.

"Never forget that Buddha illuminates your paths. You are never alone in your choices..."

"Master, I think I have found my path," Kagetsuna interrupted the priest and lowered his eyes again, not only due to him being impertinent. He had had to say it, for he had no courage to say anything else.

The grip on his shoulder got stronger. "I had no doubts you would," Kosai replied gently, his voice ringing with smile. He didn't inquire about anything. Kagetsuna gave him a shy look. The priest folded his arms. "Once you're ready to share it with me, I will hear you out," he declared.

Kagetsuna bowed his head. He hadn't expected it to be so difficult... and so easy. Perhaps, deep down, he had hoped the priest would understand him... and now he was surprised of it. He should really get used to the thought that many things would surprise him yet. He should stop being surprised when it happened. "Thank you, Master," his voice was quiet and relieved. "Where can I find Bontenmaru?" he asked, looking down.

"In the west wing. We have just finished the morning lesson," Kosai replied.

"I wish to speak with him," Kagetsuna went on, asking for permission anyway.

"Very well," Kosai nodded and didn't say any more.

The west wing didn't particularly differ from other parts of the temple. Smaller and bigger rooms served either as the guest chambers or usable spaces for meditation or study. He didn't have to look long - or, perhaps, his very legs brought him to the right place.

The room wasn't big, but a lone figure in its centre made it seem overly large. Bontenmaru was sitting by the table and reading a parchment, concentrated. A larger scroll, probably from the temple library, was lying beside. Every now and then, the boy puckered his forehead, but he didn't stop studying. Suddenly, Kagetsuna realized he didn't want to interrupt him, so he remained in the doorway and kept looking. He felt like smiling, although in the same time he felt that strange pang that had accompanied him since yesterday whenever he recalled the image of Bontenmaru in his mind. The boy's hair, always a little ruffled, kept falling onto his face as he was bending over the parchment, so he kept brushing it aside, unconsciously. Perhaps he should keep them tied, hmmm...

Kagetsuna didn't know how much time had passed. At some point, the boy firmly put the parchment aside, raised his eyes - and noticed him. For a moment, his eyes filled with amazement that immediately turned into enthusiastic happiness. Kagetsuna was, again, under the impression that he had suddenly entered another world, but he had no time to analyse these emotions since Bontenmaru jumped to his feet.

"Kagetsuna!" he called out with joy, coming closer and craning his neck to have a better look.

"Good morning, Bontenmaru-sama," the youth spoke, walking into the room. "I didn't want to disturb your study."

"I have just finished," the boy declared with satisfaction, "so we can..."

"So we can revise what you have learned," Kagetsuna suggested calmly.

The boy's face fell, but he returned to his seat obediently. Kagetsuna followed him with his eyes, astonished. He hadn't expected Bontenmaru to consent just like this. And, to tell the truth, he was surprised himself by the propose that had popped into his head unawares. Anyway, the boy had once again amazed him with his serious attitude to duties. Many adults could learn from him... Kagetsuna drove away the vision of chasing the kittens although this activity suited the five-years-old boy better than studying the Chinese texts.

He sat down and laid his eyed on the parchment. It seemed that Bontenmaru had made notes during Kosai's lectures. Kagetsuna looked through the record in hiragana, tidy and clear, then he stared at the scroll. Kosai had probably summarized the Chinese work to the boy, who had written down its most important points. Again, he looked at the little one, who was sitting straight and, it seemed, awaited the questions. Kagetsuna thought fleetingly that this boy was hard to be surprised; quite the contrary - it was him who surprised everyone else. Of course, there was still some nervousness that he couldn't hide.

"We will revise quickly and then do something pleasant," Kagetsuna decided, smiling.

The boy raised his eyes and observed him for a while. Then he relaxed. "These lessons are boring," he said outright. Kagetsuna held back a comment that was already on his tongue, for it wouldn't be educational in the slightest. "I'd rather train with a sword," the boy added, looking at him hopefully.

Well, at least the boy's priorities were right, Kagetsuna thought and noticed he was relieved. It seemed that Bontenmaru was, after all, a quite normal human - although such a thought was strange indeed.

"You'll have plenty of time for the sword," Kagetsuna answered with conviction, and the boy brightened up. "But now you have to learn Chinese. There's no help for it." Bontenmaru nodded, looking miserably again. Well, it wouldn't do any harm to comfort him with some facts. "Say yourself it's only for some time," he added encouragingly. "Once you undergo a genpuku and become a samurai, you won't have to study." It wasn't that simple neither that wonderful, but for now it was enough.

"You're right," Bontenmaru nodded eagerly, but then he winced again. "But it's still so long," he pointed out. "Perhaps even as long as ten years!" he stated almost with terror.

"We will manage somehow," Kagetsuna said bravely, trying to cheer the boy.

Bontenmaru was thinking for a while, then nodded once more and looked at him expectantly. Kagetsuna smiled inwardly, viewing the parchment again. It was a good thing he knew that text. And so it went: he kept asking deliberate questions and was being given the definite answers. And, more and more, he was amazed at this five-years-old boy. He would have never believed he would encounter surprises like this...

There was no point in prolonging the "lesson", especially that he had promised the boy more enjoyable things. Thus, after examining the boy's knowledge of the text - first-class - he returned the parchment to him, along with the praise.

Bontenmaru looked at him, happiness in his eyes. Then, however, he lowered his gaze; something was clearly bothering him, and he couldn't think of the fun yet. For a moment, he was only sitting, his hands clenched on the fabric of yukata*, and then he asked in a quiet voice, "Tomorrow... can we... do it again?"

"I think it's an excellent idea," Kagetsuna replied smoothly. "Thank you for your permission, Bontenmaru-sama."

He braced himself against another happy look of gratitude, but this time the boy managed to hide his joy under the lowered gaze. Perhaps it was better this way, Kagetsuna thought, otherwise it would be hard for him to receive it calmly.

They went out to the gardens. Sun was arduously ascending the firmament, its shine radiating on yet another day; there was no clouds on the sky. Kagetsuna didn't use to pay attention to the weather, but he had to admit that it had been really good for many months now. For his taste, it was even a bit too hot. Thanks to occasional heavy rains, the crops weren't endangered, although the last week had been dry indeed. The acolytes cared for the flowers in the temple, watering those that definitely needed it. Kagetsuna thought they would become much busier if the weather didn't change.

They sat down by the hedge wall and in the shadow of the pear tree. A branchy azalea nicely sheltered this spot in the corner. The flower petals seemed as delicate as the wings of butterflies that were overflowing this place. Every now and then, a dragonfly flashed over their heads. Bontenmaru observed them closely - and appeared to be much more interested in the nature than Chinese scriptures.

"Do you have a lot of lessons?" Kagetsuna asked.

The boy tore his eyes off the wonders of creation and mused. "I don't think so," he replied. "One in the morning and one in the afternoon. Literature in the morning and doctrine in the afternoon."

Kagetsuna nodded. "So what do you do beside studying?" The boy seemed to have a lot of free time; he had to occupy himself somehow. Bontenmaru hid a contented smile... and Kagetsuna realized he already knew the answer. "You're at Fudō Myō-ō?" he asked with some disbelief and amusement.

The smile widened, almost reaching the ears, but then the boy became more serious. "I write the letters to mother and father and practise calligraphy," he listed. "I meditate," he added and lowered his eyes, embarrassed.

"Very praiseworthy," Kagetsuna admitted, keeping to himself a thought it sounded equally boring. "What about the physical exercises?"

Bontenmaru shook his head. That was less praiseworthy. He would still have time to serious training, but the general activity would do good for him. Kagetsuna thought of his own childhood in Kaneyama, spent under the wide skies in the fields, meadows and woods. Not alone.

"Are there any children visiting the temple?" he asked.

This time he was answered by a confirming nod. "Three times a week. Monks teach the village children."

"Do you meet them?"

The boy hesitated. "I _see_ them."

"You are not allowed to meet with them?" Kagetsuna guessed, imagining a small figure on the cloister observing the group of playing children.

Bontenmaru shook his head again. "It's not like this. I just..."

"I see," Kagetsuna replied, still in thoughts. Of course, the son of daimyo shouldn't hang around with the plebeians; such were the rules. On the other hand... Would it be so bad if he could spent some time with his peers? Kagetsuna decided he should seek Master Kosai's advice on that matter. "How it looked in Yonezawa-jō?" he asked.

He bit his tongue right away. He suspected that Lady Yoshihime didn't necessarily urge the brothers to play together. In fact, he could quite well imagine that Bontenmaru had always being accustomed to his future role, and that didn't include any fun. Nevertheless, he wished he could be wrong.

Bontenmaru shrugged. It seemed he couldn't or didn't want to answer; Kagetsuna assumed the former. He straightened up, observing the boy closely. It didn't seem very well. Then, nothing indicated that such upbringing could do any harm. He didn't believe Lord Terumune's childhood had looked any different, and he was a splendid daimyo.

Still...

"What about you? You grew up in the village? You told you were staying in a temple, too," the boy's voice interrupted his reverie.

"My father comes from Yonezawa. This is where I was born and spent the first years of my life."

"So we're coming from the same place!" Bontenmaru beamed again. In spite of himself, Kagetsuna felt something akin to gratitude. The boy kept eyeing him. "How did you end up in mountains, then?"

"When I was still young, even younger than you now, my mother died," he explained calmly. "My father was still on active duty, so there was no-one who could take care of me in Yonezawa. My father was of opinion that the family was most important, so he decided to send me to my aunt, the only living relative, although it was far away. That's how I found myself in Kaneyama."

Bontenmaru was regarding him with quite different eyes now. He frowned. "You mother died..." he spoke in a voice Kagetsuna hadn't heard of him until now.

"I almost don't remember her," he said quickly yet truthfully. He wasn't comfortable with the feeling that a five-years-old child felt pity for him. "She died of illness," he added, looking up at the sky. "Many people died that time..."

"It's good you didn't," Bontenmaru said seriously.

Kagetsuna glanced at him and smiled. "I was lucky. Kannon and Ojizō-sama undoubtedly watched over me, and all local spirits, too. Although, now that I think about it, they must have had a lot of work in Yonezawa... But I really don't remember much. Luckily, there was no plague in Kaneyama," he added. "It's a very nice place."

"You told you were brought up by your aunt," Bontenmaru recalled, frowning again. "But you're from samurai family. What was she doing so far in mountains?"

"She is my father's younger sister. Her husband was appointed to a post of local administrator, so they moved," Kagetsuna went on, "But it's a sad story. That man died soon after in an accident, and aunt Kisshō was left alone. As a widow, she received financial support, but it was still a hard time for her. Eventually, everything shaped up well, somehow, and she married a peasant who was a village chief. His wife had died earlier, too..." he said pensively and only then realized he was telling a story that didn't necessarily interested Bontenmaru. He looked at the boy apologetically, but Bontenmaru only stared at him attentively and didn't interrupt. "So, I stayed with them," Kagetsuna took up. "These years weren't bad."

"And you lived in three?" Bontenmaru asked, his voice indifferent.

"Yes, they have no children. Well, Yasuo had children from his first marriage, that were already grown-up when I came to them. I think my aunt was happy that I could live with her, although she never spoiled me. In fact, she and my father are alike. They are both very serious," he added, smiling.

Bontenmaru didn't smile back this time. "Then, you had worse than I," he stated rather solemnly.

Kagetsuna blinked. "What?"

"You have no mother nor brother," Bontenmaru explained, clearly saddened.

Kagetsuna felt like scratching his head. To tell the truth, he thought there was nothing he could envy Bontenmaru, but he preferred not to say it aloud. Besides, the boy's genuine sympathy, although endearing, was hard to bear. "But Kisshō took care of me, and I never lacked the play mates," he said in a bright tone.

Bontenmaru clenched his hands on the fabric of yukata and lowered his head. Kagetsuna was under the impression that, on his face, his pride of the family heir struggled with the desire to give vent to his inner dilemmas. He remained neutral. He neither encouraged nor forbid anything. He didn't know himself any more whether he should support the boy in self-control and building of character, or let him be a child like others. He couldn't banish the thought that treating a child this way was inhuman, but, on the other hand, it was the way consecutive generations of nobility were being brought up.

That moment it felt that the rules looked better on paper than in reality. The reality was a little boy sitting in front of him, torn between honour and feelings. It wasn't a pleasant sight.

It is easier to bear difficulties together. "Bontenmaru-sama...?" he prompted.

"Why mother doesn't like me?" the boy asked dolefully. "She doesn't even let Jikumaru play with me. They are always together. Why?"

He looked Kagetsuna in the eye, as if awaiting the answer. Kagetsuna sighed inwardly. "I think it's not that she doesn't like you," he replied, wishing with all his heart for it to be true. How was he supposed to explain it? "Jikumaru is younger, isn't he? He needs a lot of care. This is why she spends more time with him."

The boy didn't seem pleased with this, but he apparently understand it, a bit, for he nodded. "It's true, Jikumaru is smaller. He can't even write or read yet," he admitted.

"Then you see," Kagetsuna seized the suggestion, "And you can, so you are able to spend your time alone, while Jikumaru needs to be taken care of." It was a very weak argumentation, but it could do for now if backed by another. "Besides, it's the fact that cannot be changed that you are successor to your father and one day you will become a daimyo yourself," he put outright. "You can't stick to your mother's kimono for ever."

"I am a big boy," Bontenmaru declared in a voice as if he was repeating someone else's words.

Kagetsuna swallowed. "Well, in the least, you're bigger than Jikumaru," he said quietly and, a bit, against himself. "I really think you're as important as Jikumaru to your mother, only she can't show it."

"Why?" It was a hard thing for a child to understand.

"If she treated you in the same way as Jikumaru, would it be easier for you to part from her?" he replied with a question. He wasn't sure if Bontenmaru grasped the meaning of what he tried to say, yet he could make an attempt.

Bontenmaru thought it over. "No, I think it would be... harder?" he said in a soft voice.

Kagetsuna nodded with contentedly. "I think your mother creates a distance between yourselves so that it is easier to both of you. After all, in the future you're going to spent a lot of time out of home, just like now. Every mother wants her child by her side, but she cannot afford it. It's not her fault," he was justifying Lady Yoshihime just like he had done it before to himself. "I think that if you hadn't been an oldest son, she would have treated you like Jikumaru. But you can't help it, so it's not worth complaining," he added warningly and somewhat authoritatively. "It would be like trying to catch moon reflected in the water. Or waiting for sun to rise in the middle of the night."

He said it in case Bontenmaru started to wish he had been born a second son. It was something not let to happen. But the boy seemed to focus on his earlier words. "So you think that my mother really..." He didn't finish, but there was an evident hope in his voice.

"Do you remember what I told you about my aunt? She had never shown me any particular affection, but I know she thought of me as her own son. Sometimes it's just like this: inside is something else than outside." He felt some thought was trying to get to his conscious. "Like... Like Fudō Myō-ō," he declared almost triumphantly.

Bontenmaru's eyes flashed, although his face expressed quite a big shock. "Mother is like Fudō Myō-ō?" he asked somewhat doubtfully, although the idea itself must have seem very appealing to him.

"A little different, but similarly," Kagetsuna confirmed. The boy seemed to analyse that thought. He frowned, his sight distracted yet determined. Kagetsuna regarded him, a warm feeling in his heart. "Why don't we pay him a visit before lunch?" he suggested, deliberately interrupting the boy's rumination.

Bontenmaru raised his eyes on him and nodded, his face a bit brighter. They rose from the grass. However, before they headed back for the temple, the boy caught Kagetsuna at the sleeve, as if he had remembered something. Kagetsuna looked at him, a question in his eyes.

"I never told it to anyone," Bontenmaru said quietly. "Only you, Kagetsuna."

"I appreciate your trust, Bontenmaru-sama," Kagetsuna replied solemnly. "Your words are safe with me."

Bontenmaru nodded, like he used to do, probably unconsciously, whenever he shifted to his "formal" manner, and then made his way towards the temple. Kagetsuna followed him.

The words "only you", that echoed in his head, were intoxicating.

* * *

*yukata - a casual summer kimono usually made of cotton

_(wikipedia)_


	5. Chapter 5

**~5~**  
**Harbinger **

* * *

The next days were as monotonous as his first week in the temple - in the meaning of the fixed rhythm and repetitive occupation - but the air they had to them was radically different. Kagetsuna still spent his mornings in the fields, but after this he now helped Bontenmaru with lessons, and then came the most anticipated time: the time they could speak. Kagetsuna wasn't sure which one of them awaited it more enthusiastically.

Kagetsuna didn't neglect his other duties either - if they could be called it. He meditated, talked with others and sometimes even dropped in the library. With double vigour he made use of - maybe the last - opportunity to gain knowledge that would support him later on. He was under the impression, quite new to him, that he was able to see the next stage of his life, although not long ago he had felt as if he had been walking blindfold, with the adulthood being still far away. Now, when he finally saw the shape of his near future, he could improve himself, striving to become a samurai, and he did so with steady yet intense sense of duty. He had never expected that the sense of purpose could change the face of the daily routines. After all, now he didn't do anything else than before, yet his present eagerness was second to none.

He had also spoken with Master Kosai about Bontenmaru and his stay in the temple. Now that he thought about, he blushed to realize he had, in fact, showered the priest with the suggestions how to diversify the education of the young heir, while Kosai had only listened to him and then had agreed to everything. Well, this "everything" wasn't that much - a possibility to meet with the locals and leave the main temple more often - but to a five-year-old boy who happened to stay away from home it meant the incalculable richness of the daily life.

Kagetsuna was of the opinion that it wasn't anything disgracing to associate with the lower classes. Besides, the peasants were generally respected. It could be that in the court people were very careful to surround themselves with the adequate company, which, of course, meant the representatives of the same class. However, it took only to go out of the centre of han to notice that in the province the relations were much more casual, with one example at his fingertips: his aunt, the daughter of samurai, had married a peasant, and no-one found it anything condemnable. Samurai might have been considered the flower of society - or, what was possibly closer to the truth, they considered themselves as such - but Kagetsuna's common sense told him that nobility wouldn't last long if not for the peasants, even if was yet to reach the conclusion the people were all the same.

Anyway, the idea to isolate the future daimyo from his future people didn't seem particularly wise. Quite the contrary, Kagetsuna thought that spending time with others - apart from the daily activity that every child of his age needed - could amplify the boy's ability to communicate and understand. Kagetsuna felt the enormous potential in Bontenmaru, as well as the desire to develop, and who said that learning meant solely reading the Chinese classics?

Thus Bontenmaru had got the "permission" to participate in the classes that monks gave to the village children - not to learn anything new, but to spend the time with his peers and familiarize himself with their way of thinking. It was possible that the most valuable were the moments of break when the little ones could run together and talk of everything and anything. Even if Bontenmaru stood out from the crowd like a parrot among the crows, it didn't seem to complicate anyone's life.

Of course, it was still possible that Lady Yoshihime, despite her young age, would have an apoplexy had she learned that her son and the heir to the Date hung around with the plebs, but Kagetsuna believed that the name of Kosai Sōitsu was not without the significance. As the boy had been trusted to him, it was Kosai's discretion to judge and decide what kind of study the boy needed.

In any case, Bontenmaru was delighted. Happy. Entranced. Even if it was to being told only from his glowing eyes. At his age, he could already control his emotions perfectly, which either dismayed or enraptured - Kagetsuna could never chose and usually decided the both. And then he always told himself, repeating like a mantra, that it was the way the samurai children were brought up and there had to be some point in it.

Of course, Kagetsuna didn't leave Bontenmaru alone with the village kids. Apart from the fact he wanted to spend with him as much time as possible, it wouldn't be wise to give the boy complete freedom. The heir to the noble family wasn't to be left alone, even if he was safe in the temple. After all, he was only five years old and required care, and Kagetsuna - being a person responsible for such a change in his schedule and the whole temporary existence - considered it his duty to watch over him. When Bontenmaru felt like playing with children, he played; when he didn't, he sat down next to Kagetsuna and talked. He asked the questions and found the answers - or they racked their brains together. And when the lessons were over, the other started, more serious, and the boy engaged in them with lighter heart and more eager mind. At some point, Kagetsuna realized they spent almost the whole days together.

He didn't have anything against it, not in the slightest.

They also left the temple, but not very often since it wasn't something to overdo with. The precincts might have been quiet, but had someone really intended to assault the son of the Date, one Katakura Kagetsuna with a staff wouldn't be able to protect him, even at the cost of his life. This was, however, an obviousness, regardless of the circumstances.

Anyway, they didn't venture farther than the border of fields, always staying in the open space where Kagetsuna had the good view. There, they trained their bodies any way they could think up: they ran, jumped and exercised. And when they sat down by the stream, slightly fatigued, and Bontenmaru's laughter carried in the air, Kagetsuna was under the impression he had never been happier in his life. Under the vast skies, they could lie down in the grass and talk about the country and the meadow, about Buddha and the clouds, about Confucius and the turnip. Well, the work in the fields was excluded, of course. Even if Lady Yoshihime, by some miracle, had accepted the truth about her son's company - although she must have been characterised by the leniency of Kannon herself - she could never survive the thought the future daimyo dirtied his small hands growing the radish. Kagetsuna suspected he himself wouldn't survive it either.

August went by slowly, inevitably approaching its end. The crops had been harvested; the fruit of the long labour had been stored in the warehouses. The field work finished, Kagetsuna made use of his free time and studied more intensely. The temple library was well-stocked, and between the theological treatises and belles-lettres also volumes referring to much more mundane matters, like wielding authority, ruling people or even battle tactics, were to be found. Kagetsuna devoured them one after another, although it was not an easy read, mostly because of the language. There were but a few Japanese works and translation from Chinese. He didn't care. He had already decided to familiarize himself with as much as possibly.

During the first days it had been too difficult to put his feelings into words - or even admit them in heart - but now he was entirely sure of what he intended and wanted to do in his future. And he was still amazed at the fact that his eyes had been so suddenly opened... No, it wasn't correct way to put it, but it still had that air of a sudden change to it. It was like awakening from sleep. Like being born anew. Like leaving home behind and starting a journey that might never end. It must have been fated that he had met the heir to the Date, and, although he had been living only fourteen years, he could claim with full conviction he had never experienced so fierce feelings for anyone before. A samurai lived to serve his master, and Kagetsuna already knew his heart belonged to Bontenmaru. The boy was only five years old, but it didn't matter, for he was to become a daimyo one day - perhaps sooner than anyone could expect - and Katakura Kagetsuna's dearest wish was to stay by his side, support him and helped him to achieve greatness with all his might. If needed, to lay down his life for him. If he failed him, to die an honourable death of a samurai.

And not so long ago he had been under the impression his destiny had forgot about him completely.

However, if he was to be of use to his future lord, just like he had always dreamt, it took to have something to give. This was why he kept spending many hours over the scrolls and tried to enlarge his knowledge on the issues he might deal with some day. He didn't neglected his training either, every day practising swordsmanship in a nearby grove. In fact, this overwhelming feeling of joy, making him almost flying in the air, had quickly subsided; Kagetsuna wouldn't be himself if he hadn't cooled down soon and approached the matter seriously. To feel overwhelmed was pleasant, but he could experience his happiness more calmly, too. Almost immediately he discovered that, for a change, he was frustrated to realize he was out of time, although only just he had been tormented by the thought his days were going by very slowly, his adulthood was far on the horizon, never actually coming closer, and his situation didn't change at all.

Apparently, he was a perfectionist.

On his part, Bontenmaru seemed to enjoy every moment and ceased looking as if he was weighed down by a heavy - glorious - burden that hampered his moves. He laughed a lot, allowed himself more liberty and finally started to resemble more a child than an adult in the body of a child. They still spoke on various topics, still explored both old and more contemporary knowledge, but now there was some hint of joy to it, and the awareness the boy could burst into laughter any moment didn't feel strange at all any more.

Quite the contrary: everything was like it should be.

* * *

In the last week of August Kosai called Kagetsuna to his side. "In few days they will come to take Bontenmaru to Yonezawa-jō," he announced, showing a letter.

Kagetsuna blinked. Indeed, Bontenmaru had mentioned he would go home for birthday. Somehow, they had managed to forget about it - or, he had managed, for Bontenmaru might have simply chosen not to mention it aloud. The time had flown by with them engaging in various activities, and Kagetsuna was reluctant to admit they had to take a break now.

But, he reproached himself right away, it was a selfish thinking that didn't befit anyone. It was only natural that Bontenmaru could visit his family for the first time in last six months; of course it was of most significance. There was still a matter of...

"What are you going to do?" Master Kosai asked as if he had guessed at his thoughts.

And then the world swayed.

Kagetsuna looked up at him, suddenly unable to utter a word. The truth hit him hard. He had been staying in Ungan-ji by order of his father and even if he had forgotten this, devoting himself to fulfilling his destiny, it remained a fact. Father had sent him to study under the guidance of Kosai Sōitsu and nowhere else. His throat clenched, for the realization he would have to part with Bontenmaru was unbearable. He swallowed, but it didn't lessen the feeling he was choking in the slightest.

Kosai observed him intently, as always. "Endō Motonobu will be in charge of the journey," he said, and the image of the tall and serious man, deeply trusted by Lord Terumune, popped automatically into Kagetsuna's mind. "Four bushi and four servants. According to the letter, they have set out today."

Kagetsuna counted. Four days was what it took to get from Yonezawa to Ungan-ji, at an average pace. The return journey might take longer if they put the boy into a palanquin. After all, the daimyo's first-born deserved a special treatment...

"Are you going to say something?" the priest asked, and it seemed to Kagetsuna that his tone contained much more than had been put into words, but he wasn't in mood to analyse it. He shook his head. "Then forward the message to Bontenmaru, please."

Kagetsuna bowed and got up to leave. When at the doorstep, Kosai's voice reached him, "Remember about your obligations." The priest's words were puzzling enough for Kagetsuna to hesitate and look back. Kosai, however, had already turned towards Dainichi Buddha and his figure seemed to departure to the realms the greatest deity was dwelling.

Kagetsuna went in the corridor and headed for the western wing, lost in thought. Only on the way he began to realize he had behaved with little respect. It didn't fill him with that much remorse, though, since other problems were swirling in his head.

Once he got out of the daze evoked by the news about Bontenmaru's departure, he quickly decided his reaction had been definitely exaggerated. It worried him. He shouldn't have got so agitated. All right, they would have to part for a while - but the feeling as if he had been locked in a dark stuffy room couldn't possibly be normal in such situation. He came to a halt and leaned against the wall, pressing his hand to the chest that was authentically aching.

Okay, he had grown attached to the boy. Okay, he wanted to stay with him. He wanted to serve him and so on - he could already recite it all in one breath. But if his attachment were to mean such, almost... blind, absolute and total presence, then... it wouldn't bring anything good to either of them.

He covered his face with hand. Life consisted of separations, he told himself. It was normal to be sometimes together and sometimes not. _Katakura Kagetsuna, if you think you need someone else's presence all the time, you are weak. Be a man and don't constrain yourself and others, too._

He gasped. And what if... What if, during all this time, with his behaviour, he made Bontenmaru become dependent on him? He opened his eyes wide, staring at the darkening skies of the evening. They had been staying together almost all the time. He had seen that the boy, left alone for half a year, had clung to him and soaked up his presence. Kagetsuna had wanted to relieve his loneliness. Could it be that he had harmed him instead? Unintentionally, but certainly out of his egoism.

His chest ached again. For a moment, he felt as if there were far too many partings in his life. Mother. Father. And now someone who became his younger brother...

The sound of steps brought him back to the reality. Two young acolytes passed by, casting the furtive glances at him. He raised his head, although in fact he felt like lowering it even more. He swallowed, clenching his fists, suddenly angry at himself. He really shouldn't have started to get sentimental. He resumed walking, determined to be more careful from now on. It might be a good thing, he decided suddenly, that Bontenmaru was to go to Yonezawa. Otherwise, Kagetsuna would have been sinking more and more into that hopeless dependence on the small boy, and it would have been much hurtful to realize it later. He should thank his fate for that lesson. Buddha had been watching over him and lit his path again.

Kagetsuna hoped several hours of meditation would enlighten him as for how he should deal with Bontenmaru in the future, too.

His chest still ached, but he decided to ignore it.

"They are going to get me?" Bontenmaru asked happily after Kagetsuna announced the news to him.

"They should arrive in here in three days," he replied.

Bontenmaru wondered. "I thought I would await them more, but during the last days I totally forgot about it," he confessed. Kagetsuna remained silent despite the pangs in his heart. "The last days went quickly," the boy went on, frowning, but then he beamed again. "I'm going home!"

"I see you're looking forward to it," Kagetsuna spoke softly, not really trusting his voice, but trying to maintain the neutrally positive tone.

"A lot! I'm going to see father, mother and Jikumaru. And grandparents! Do you think home has changed much?"

"I don't think so, Bontenmaru-sama."

"I'm sure there will be many people there..." Bontenmaru mused. "Last year, when I had birthday, the castle was filled with guest. All retainers of father must have been there."

"One day they will serve you," Kagetsuna explained although it wasn't necessary.

The boy nodded, as if he was affirming a fact known long since. "I wonder when I come back here."

"Do you want to?" Kagetsuna asked carefully, emotions surging in him.

Bontenmaru looked at him. "I'd like to be at home because there's my home," he answered seriously. "But my father has sent me here, so I'm staying here. Besides..." His voice trailed off, but then he took up, less bombastically but more cordially, "I like it here." He bowed his head, almost embarrassed, yet quickly a wide smile lit his face. "But it's going to be great at home! I wonder how you will like Yonezawa-jō. It's quite a time since you've been there, isn't it?"

Kagetsuna kept silent, bravely looking in the shining eyes.

"You're going with us, aren't you?" an anxiety rang in Bontenmaru's voice.

Kagetsuna felt he would be a coward to his dying day if he didn't reply now. "I'm not, Bontenmaru-sama."

"You have to go," the boy stated in a tone that was a strange mixture of confidence, hope and even command.

Kagetsuna shook his head. "Just like you, I'm here by my honourable father's order, Bontenmaru-sama," he put, in the same time asking himself if the obvious fact didn't serve only as an excuse in that case.

To tell the truth, he realized, he might have asked Kosai Sōitsu for a permission to go - and he was sure he would have been given it. He could ask Endō Motonobu. In fact, it seemed to him that no-one would have anything against him going to Yonezawa. Neither his father. Only...

Only that what had happened during his talk with Kosai had made him realize fully that temporary separation from the boy was by all means advisable and desirable. And he was resolved to keep to it, regardless of how hard it was.

Bontenmaru observed him silently, and the enthusiastic glow in his intent eyes was fading, replaced by something between determination, realization and disappointment.

"All right, Kagetsuna," he finally spoke in a completely calm voice of a future ruler.

And Kagetsuna - in spite of his preceding claims and determined decision, in spite of the relief at the thought that exaggerated attachment was obviously one-sided, and in spite of the general admiration for the boy's maturity - felt as if he had just been banished from the fire. For a moment, he simply sat and stared, his eyes wide open. Only now he realized he had hoped... Despite everything he had really hoped that Bontenmaru would protest, ask and demand... until, in the end, Kagetsuna set out along with him to Yonezawa.

He clenched his fists. _Can you get even more pathetic, Katakura Kagetsuna?_ he asked himself.

He took his leave quite soon since it was already late, but on the way to his room he understood he couldn't count on good night-sleep in such state of mind. He didn't even try. He sat down by the garden door and gazed at the crescent moon on the dark sky. He felt very, very low.

_Be a man,_ he told himself. _It's only for your own good,_ he repeated. _Focus on the positive things,_ he encourage himself.

It didn't help. He was sinking more and more into deplorable thoughts and feeling more and more disgusted with himself.

What had happened was unfortunate, he decided finally. He shouldn't have grown so attached to the little one. But... he hadn't expected he would become so attached in the first place. Never in his life had he become attached to anyone. Mother had passed away before he had understood the meaning of her existence. Father had always been somewhere else. Aunt had treated him somewhat distantly. In fact, he had never had anyone who would be close, who would show some affection for him. It hadn't even occurred to him that he might be able to feel this way: feel so burning desire to be by the other person's side and experience the daily joys and sorrows together.

Yet, such was his reality, and it seemed futile to even try to fight it. Especially now. It was a good thing - it really was - for them both to part; the voice of reason said so. The reason kept saying that time should be used in the wise way: to organize the priorities again and plan the future a bit better. The heart was about to burst and couldn't care less about the words of reason. The heart was weeping over the treatment it had received when Bontenmaru had unconcernedly acceded to another viewpoint. It hurt. A samurai should be able to endure the pain, but Kagetsuna thought he'd rather be cut with a katana.

The more he pondered on it, the more he came to realize he might have misunderstood his own significance for the boy. After all, Bontenmaru was a future daimyo and had many people at his beck and call - or he would have some day. He, too, had to learn how to treat others and what kind of relations to form with them. It seemed to Kagetsuna that of them both the five-year-old boy had acted in a mature way, although it was Kagetsuna, who lived ten years longer. In the same time, he felt awfully doleful at the thought he might have been just one of many people to him. Not to mention it seriously complicated his future plans... that seemed no more than idle fantasies at the moment.

It wasn't a pleasant thing: to go to extremes; he should have known it. He did know, but - until now - hadn't experienced. He had always strived for balance, valued self-control and tried to preserve the peace of mind regardless of the circumstances - and now one little boy had turned his world upside down and shown how much it had been really worth.

He felt totally worthless.

Various emotions were swirling inside him, some of them opposing the others, and he couldn't quite handle them, which made him feel even worse. Oh, if only someone could tell him what was right... The meditation would be of help, perhaps, but was too upset to calm down for it - after all, it was the problem here. In the end, just trying to focus on anything in order to not completely plunge in the chaos filling him, he started to say the prayer.

"By my following in the footsteps of the buddhas, may I utterly perfect the sublime ways of the bodhisattvas. And may I practice the faultless, undegenerating, stainless, and pure ways of self-control."*

He didn't notice when he drifted to sleep, curled on the wooden panel in the faint light of the distant moon.

* * *

He woke up at dawn, cold and stiff, for a moment trying to gen up on his situation. A morning mist was covering the ground and obscuring the cool blue of sky with its grey veil. The temple never fell asleep; someone was always awake: meditating monks, servants waiting to be called for and - what was easy to believe after one spent enough time in the particular atmosphere of the scared place - the deities that resided here. Still, it seemed to Kagetsuna that he could hear quite lively, despite the early hour, and definitely excited voices, and this was possible only because his room was not so far from the main gate.

He realized he wouldn't get any more sleep. Gazing at the fading crescent of moon, barely visible against the pale firmament, he headed for the baths to wash his face. On the way, he tried to clean up his clothing and hair that, tousled after the sleep, was pretty hard to tie up at the top of head, mostly due to his shivering hands. He jumped on the spot once or twice to warm himself up, looking around and making sure no-one saw him. The jacket would do, but he hadn't thought to take it and now he didn't want to go back. After all, it would get warm in no time. Now it wasn't that bad idea to have a walk around the temple.

He felt strangely peaceful, but despite efforts he couldn't recall his dreams. The chaos that had filled him only last evening was gone now, and he couldn't even remember his sensations from the previous day. It was as if someone had told him _It will be all right_ and took all those tangled emotions along. Thus, Kagetsuna was under the impression he had no reason to be worried about. Perhaps it was Dainichi Buddha, the greatest god, or merciful Kannon - or even Fudō Myō-ō, who possessed the power of catching and binding the evil spirits so that they didn't lead the people astray. Kagetsuna slowed down. He realized that, since coming to Ungan-ji, he had reflected on Fudō more often than before. Well, it wasn't that strange, after all. He suppressed a smile, heading for the gate.

Two monks were discussing some matter on the yard in front of the entry to the temple. Their voices were quiet but untypically agitated, and they appeared very troubled. There was yet another person there: a skinny man clad in simple clothing, apparently a villager, whose humbly bent figure showed equal tension. It seemed strange to Kagetsuna that the man was standing at some distance from the ones he was talking to; such humility was excessive and definitely unnecessary, and Kagetsuna felt there was more to it.

"We will pass the word to Master Kosai," one of the monks spoke finally. "He will hand down a decision of what to do."

"Do not lose your hope, though" the other added in a softer voice. "Our Lord never abandon the ones who suffer and are in need, and the temple used to give you aid before."

"We are grateful for the message, albeit so unfortunate. Remember that bodhisattvas watch over you," the first monk assured the man.

The peasant bowed, muttering his thanks, and turned to leave. Kagetsuna approached the monks, who took out their rosaries and started to say prayers, if he heard well, to drive away the misfortune. He frowned; his feeling of peace had been disturbed.

Something must have happened, something bad, something dangerous. He didn't know the reason yet, but the hair on his neck were already rising as if sensing the calamity. Could it be that the village had been attacked? He had regarded the area safe, but in the time of constant wars no-one could assume the peace would last for ever. He looked at the peasant, who was slowly walking away.

"My good man!" he called at him, heading for the gate. "What has happened?"

The man turned around, fear suddenly crossing his face. He raised his hands, as if wanting to defend himself. Kagetsuna stopped; he didn't want to scare him.

"My lord," the man spoke humbly, and his calm voice made Kagetsuna realize it was not him the villager was afraid of. "Do not come near me. The plague stroke the village. I live in the outskirts, by the road to the temple, so I rushed to warn the holy monks and ask for help with sick, just like they offered it to us before."

Kagetsuna felt all his insides twist and the cold shiver run through his body. He stepped back, more instinctively than out of fear. The man gave him an understanding, though somewhat bitter, look. Kagetsuna got hold of himself.

"What plague?" he asked, hoping his voice was calm.

The man clutched the hat he had removed before entering the temple grounds.

"Folks say that the smallpox."

* * *

* fragment of "Samantabhadracarya pranidhana"


	6. Chapter 6

**~6~**  
**Escape**

* * *

Kagetsuna was under the impression that the world had stopped. He was standing on the temple yard, and all thoughts had vanished completely from his mind. Only a colder morning gust shook him out of the daze he had been in for a while. Over the thumping of blood in his ears, he could hear the singing of birds again. The villager had already left. Kagetsuna realized that the monks had went into the temple, too, probably to notify Kosai. He shook his head.

He felt as if some detail was escaping him, but there was no point in standing and musing over it; it should be better to gen in touch with the situation. He turned on his heel and followed the monks, their pale robes clearly seen inside the temple.

"What has that man told you?" he asked, having caught up with them. "When has it started? Did anyone died already?"

The monks looked at him cautiously, as if considering whether they should talk with him before they informed their superior. The situation was, however, too serious, and the tension was almost palpable to stick to the rules now.

"Two families started to feel ill two days ago, or this is what he's said," one of the monks answered. "The rash was observed yesterday. Yaichi hasn't mentioned about any dead. If it is really the smallpox, then... Oh, Buddha, protect your children."

"They suspect the malady came either from north or west, from Takashimizu. First to fall ill were the ones living in that area," the other added. "Still, it is of little significance since the plague has most likely spread over the whole village by now."

Kagetsuna stopped. "Are we safe here?" he blurted out. "If the gates are closed..."

The monks gave him a stern look, and Kagetsuna realized what he had said. "Buddha is not for those healthy and strong ones only," the monk reproached him gently.

"But it is likely that Master Kosai will decide to isolate the temple nonetheless. Not because of fear, but in order to not let the malady out, given it has already reached here. He will send the brothers to help with those poor souls who suffer."

Kagetsuna blinked. "Already reached? But..."

"The pilgrims unceasingly arrive in the temple. Any of them could have encountered someone ill in the village, not even knowing it. We are not protected by the fact our house is out of the way. What protects us is only our faith."

Kagetsuna wondered, his heart beating fast. No, he was sure he hadn't seen anyone sick. The monks had been acting like always, the pilgrims were joyful, and children...

He felt as if he had been struck by a bolt from the blue.

Children. Lessons. Bontenmaru.

The village children came and left the temple freely, especially during the days of lessons. Bontenmaru, earlier completely isolated, had been spending a lot of time with them now.

He was again under the impression that his insides got tied into tight knot. He clenched his fists and felt the nails digging in.

Calm down. Don't panic. Think.

Maybe nothing had happened yet. For sure, nothing had happened. Bontenmaru was healthy. Like always. He couldn't fall ill. Everything would be all right.

He had to be taken from here. As soon as possible.

It was still early. He would make it. There was still time.

He turned around and run for the stable, taking no notice of the monks' reproving yet understanding looks. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered except that he had to take Bontenmaru to the safe place. Far away from here. Take him home. To Yonezawa. But, first and foremost, far from here. He would make it.

It was nicely warm in the stable. The horses in their boxes were replete and well-rested. Some of them were still sleeping, others stared at Kagetsuna animatedly - if it was something to be said about a horse - as he was passing them on his way to Chestnut. Chestnut gave him a curious look. Apparently, he had just finished his breakfast and now awaited something more interesting than another dull day in the stable. From time to time, Kagetsuna had let him to run across the meadows surrounding the temple, but the young horse certainly dreamt of longer and faster ride.

"Today you will run," Kagetsuna hoped he had answered his expectations. "A journey awaits us."

He caressed his muzzle and then took to putting the tack on. The horse snorted, sensing the riding, and started to prance in the box. Kagetsuna was too tense to smile, but he slapped the horse on the rump, somewhat distracted. Throwing the saddle over the Chestnut's back, he realized that the hard ride was awaiting not only him alone. He paused, hands on the pommels, thinking intensely. The saddle was big enough for them both to fit in, although they wouldn't be any comfortable. Well, he could put the blanket under the boy, if needed. He fastened the girth and started to adjust the saddle to the little one's needs. He wasn't quite satisfied with the final result, but, as he told himself, there was nothing more he could do, and the time was running out.

He rushed to the kitchen, where the breakfast was already being prepared, and asked for some rice for now and little provisions for the rest of day. During his stay in the temple, he had managed to acquaint himself with the most of servants, which turned out to come in useful, for no-one was asking him anything now. Grateful, he went to the corridor, carrying the fair share of nicely smelling food and a mug of freshly brewed tea. As for himself, he wasn't hungry at all; he was too focused on more important things.

Before entering Bontenmaru's room, he hesitated for a moment, but then he knocked and vigorously slid the door aside. He walked into, not waiting for any invitation - that he actually never expected to hear in the first place. Bontenmaru was sleeping soundly, cover pulled up onto his ears, and only his ruffled hair was to be spotted, scattered all over the pillow. Kagetsuna knelt by him, put the meal down and set about waking the boy up.

"Bontenmaru-sama," he said quietly but firmly, touching his shoulder.

Silence.

"Bontenmaru-sama," he repeated in a louder voice, shaking the boy gently.

This time, rather unclear muttering was an answer, and the blanket was pulled up higher, covering even the tousled mop.

Kagetsuna felt - quite unexpectedly - his heart lightened a bit. He felt like smiling, despite the seriousness of situation. For the meantime, he leaned over the boy and started to determinedly unwrap him from the cover.

"Bontenmaru-sama, we must shortly set out to Yonezawa," he announced, pulling the quilt from the boy's possessive hands.

"But I'm going to go to Yonezawa for birthday," Bontenmaru replied, not very lucidly, albeit, actually, he talked with sense.

"Still, we're going now," Kagetsuna confirmed, taking the cover out of the boy's reach. "Get up."

He looked through the chests and baskets to find the clothing for the boy. Bontenmaru sat up on the bed, rubbing his eyes with his tiny hands as if he wanted to squash them in their sockets. After a while of this, seemingly unconscious, activity, he froze, and it appeared he was drifting off to sleep again, this time sitting.

"Bontenmaru-sama, do not fall asleep," Kagetsuna called, looking over his shoulder. "I've prepared you some clothing," he went on, pleased to see that the boy was trying to keep his eyes open. "Here is your breakfast. Eat it because a long journey awaits us. I'll be back in a moment and help you get dressed if needed. And wash your face. Think if you want to take anything with you." Bontenmaru stared ahead, blinking, his gaze blank. "I have to go to Master Kosai now, but I'll be back in no time," Kagetsuna added.

The boy finally looked at him. "What's the time?" he asked in a sleepy voice.

"Hour of the Hare*," Kagetsuna replied. "In the hour of Dragon** we have to be on our way."

The boy's eyes got widened. "It's still very early," he stated and yawned, but it seemed to Kagetsuna that he was starting to revive.

"It is," he agreed. "Try to stay awake now. You can sleep later. May I count on you, Bontenmaru-sama?"

For a moment, the boy observed him, silent, and then gave a firm, solemn nod. Now Kagetsuna didn't manage to suppress his smile. He looked away.

"Kagetsuna," the boy's voice made him to turn. "Why are we leaving so suddenly? Has something happened?"

Kagetsuna took a deep breath. "I'll tell you on the way," he declared, and the boy nodded again.

And then, without warning, he grinned with his typical smile, making the room brighter. "So you're going with me," he said, reaching out for the rice bowl. "I'm happy," he added with utmost earnestness.

Kagetsuna was only standing and gazing at his beaming face under the mop of dark hair until he remembered again the situation was very serious. "I'll be right back," he assured the boy and made for Kosai's rooms.

In the corridor, he passed two familiar monks who had just left their superior's chamber, determined look on their faces. Kosai must have given instructions... Kagetsuna knocked and called, "Master, it's Katakura Kagetsuna. Please, spare me a moment."

"Come in."

Kosai Sōitsu was sitting by the table and filling the parchment with his quick hand. It didn't take long to notice that, even if the news of the plague had been unexpected, he had been prepared for it. Like, perhaps, for everything. He showed Kagetsuna the seat that the youth took, despite being in hurry. He didn't, however, awaited the invitation to the talk.

"Master, I'm taking Bontenmaru to Yonezawa," he declared.

Kosai's head snapped, and the man looked at him. The next moment he put the brush aside and stared in silence he could so well hide all his thoughts in.

"He cannot stay here," Kagetsuna added, clenching his fists.

"Kagetsuna..." the priest started, but was not given the chance to continue.

"He is the heir to the Date family," Kagetsuna interrupted him. "We must not expose him to the danger. Before the retinue arrives, he will be at home already. I'll take care of it," he assured.

"I have just ordered that no-one leaves the temple. We cannot let the plague spread," Kosai said sternly.

Kagetsuna looked him in the eye. "He cannot stay here," he repeated. "He must get back home. Because, even if... even if..." He wasn't able to finish.

He felt he went pale and his eyes got widened, involuntarily. No, he forbid himself such thoughts. Everything would be all right. Nothing had happened yet.

But if... in case that... He clenched his fists tighter. All the more reason why the boy should return to his family. He couldn't stay here... alone... It was too terrible. He had to get back home. To his father and mother.

"He must get back home," he whispered.

Kosai kept silent, observing him attentively. Perhaps he could see in Kagetsuna's eyes the determination to break any law, if needed.

"He is a chosen one," he said finally. "He is a blessed one. He has a role to fulfil. I cannot keep him. It would be against the heaven's will," he admitted, it seemed, somewhat reluctant.

Kagetsuna felt the ring clenching his heart loosen. For the boy's sake, he was ready, without hesitation, to oppose the orders of his carer and generally respected sage; however, it was better to save the blessing of the Buddha and the bodhisattvas. He heaved a sigh of relief.

"Where are you going to go?" Kosai asked.

"First to Kaneyama. Then through Yamagata to Yonezawa," Kagetsuna had the route already planned.

"To Kaneyama?" Kosai's voice rang with surprise, and the priest raised his eyebrows. "It's more than twenty-five _ri_***. Too long distance, both for the horse and the boy."

"Master, I've been riding a horse since I was at Bontenmaru's age," Kagetsuna spoke calmly. "My mount is a though mountain horse. He will manage it, especially that Bontenmaru doesn't weigh a lot. We will travel light."

"But the boy... No, Kagetsuna-kun, I can't let you..."

"Master. At the most, he will graze his bottom. It's nothing to... die of," he stuttered. Kosai rubbed his forehead. "We've got plenty of time," Kagetsuna went on, as if trying to convince him. "Trust me, I won't overexert my horse. If we don't make it in time, we will stop over in due time. Does it appease your concern?"

Kosai looked at him in silence and then he sighed. He stood up and folded his hands. "Let Buddha Dainichi guide you. Let Konnan have a mercy for you, and Ojizō-sama protect you," he spoke solemnly, albeit dejected.

"Do not forget Fudō Myō-ō," Kagetsuna added. "I know certain someone who holds his protection dear."

Kosai nodded. "Especially Fudō Myō-ō. After all, he protects us against the plagues... I'll tell by the gate to let you through. Try to be quick. It would be better for you to leave before the news spreads among the pilgrims."

Kagetsuna bowed deeply. "In half an hour we'll be on the southern high-road already. My horse is ready, and I have asked for provisions in the kitchen. Now I'm going to help Bontenmaru."

"They will yet treasure you. You have taken care of everything," the priest's voice rang with praise, and Kagetsuna lowered his gaze. "Proceed with caution. Do not get close to anyone. You must not endanger other people unnecessarily," Kosai added with request.

"I understand, Master."

Kosai seemed to hesitate. Kagetsuna was slowly growing impatient, but he didn't want to leave like this. "I'm not that knowledgeable about the medicine," Kosai finally spoke, "but I faintly recollect being told that only the rash is contagious. It may be a false assumption, though," he added warningly, "but I wanted tell you it."

"Thank you, Master," Kagetsuna said. "Good-bye, Master."

"Good bye, my boy."

Kagetsuna really believed they would see each other again. He rushed back to the western wing, where he was pleased to found Bontenmaru dressed and the rice bowl mostly emptied. There was no point in forcing the boy to eat the whole. Kagetsuna thanked the servant who had helped the boy to change, which definitely quickened their departure. Apart from this, Kagetsuna was sure that Bontenmaru looked much neater than if he would have been dressed by Kagetsuna himself.

"I can tell you're ready for a travel," he praised the boy. "Are you going to take something with you? Mind it we can't carry a lot," he reminded.

The boy gave him an intent look. "When are we going to be back?" he asked.

"I don't know it."

The boy looked around. "I have only those parchments I've studied with," he said, approaching the table and glancing over the papers.

"I think you've memorized everything, Bontenmaru-sama," Kagetsuna declared in a calm voice - and truthfully.

The boy turned to him and grinned. "Then, only the letters from home," he remembered, reaching for the sheets in the drawer.

"Is that all?"

The boy nodded and slid the sheets into his bosom. Kagetsuna looked through the chests again and took out a cape. The boy might feel cold riding on horseback. And in case of rain...

Bontenmaru was standing in the centre of the room, waiting patiently. Kagetsuna stared at his tiny figure, freshly clad. He looked very polite and dignified in the same time. Ah, Kagetsuna realized what he had overlooked. The boy's tousled hair almost made a halo around his head.

"We have to comb your hair," Kagetsuna said firmly. "Apart from the fact you resemble a small demon, it's better to have your hair tied in the journey."

The boy patted his head, as if examining the extent of the untidiness, and then he reached for the comb. "I'm going to have my hair like yours?" he asked, looking at Kagetsuna's hair tied high on the top.

"Sort of," Kagetsuna replied, suppressing a smile. "But we need something to tie them... I suppose you don't have any ribbon?"

"I always have my hair loose," the boy admitted, looking around. "But look, those tapes on the scrolls," he pointed at the papers, apparently from the temple library, laying by the table. "You think they will do?"

Had he got more time, Kagetsuna would certainly wonder if wearing the red ribbons in hair befitted the future daimyo. Now, he only grabbed the nearest scroll, undid the band and started to put the boy's hair in order.

"You're pulling," Bontenmaru informed him, gritting his teeth.

"I beg your forgiveness, Bontenmaru-sama. I cannot help your hair is tangled."

"It always is in the morning," the boy admitted. After being tugged for several times, he offered, "Maybe I will brush it first, and then you will tie it?"

Kagetsuna sighed and gave him the comb. "But hurry."

The boy dealt with his mop in no time, wincing whenever the comb came a across the tangle. Then, together, they tied his hair in a tail that didn't necessarily resembled the one of Kagetsuna, but definitely befitted a samurai. Given that, again, any samurai would have red ribbons in his hair.

"I think you look better without it," he decided, more to himself than a boy.

The inquiring gaze broke his reverie, and Kagetsuna realized that for a moment he had managed to forget about the danger. He collected his thoughts. "All right. We're going to the stable. I will introduce you and Chestnut to each other." He took the boy's hand, and they went on the corridor. "Have you ever ride a horse, Bontenmaru-sama?"

"I rode a pony," the boy replied with some pride. "But not very fast."

"Chestnut is like a big pony. You will manage it," Kagetsuna assured him.

The boy didn't appear to need it, though. It was likely that for him this tour seemed an adventure he hardly experienced as a son of daimyo. After he had fully waked up, his face had been expressing only curiosity, involvement and anticipation. And his eyes were shining. Well, by the evening he would definitely look differently, but Kagetsuna didn't intend to worry about it now.

Chestnut greeted the boy in a serious manner, as if sensing it was an important person standing before him. Bontenmaru stared at his size in awe and with something akin to the anxiety.

"We will manage it," Kagetsuna repeated, putting hand on his head. "Like I said to Master Kosai, I've been riding a horse since I was at your age." The boy looked at him and nodded. "Now, wait here for me," Kagetsuna commended. "I'll go fetch my things and our food. It will take only a moment. Don't walk away. Once I'm back, we're going to leave."

"All right, Kagetsuna."

The youth sighed with relief and headed for his room, where he took only the cape and the wooden sword. In the kitchen, he was given the bundle of food and a good word for the way. The peaceful, smiling faces of servants indicated they didn't know about the plague yet. Kagetsuna felt a pang of guilt. Soon they would get known, but they wouldn't have a chance to escape. On the other hands... It was their home here.

And Bontenmaru's home was in Yonezawa.

He found the boy stroking Chestnut's long neck and brushing through his mane. "To the touch, it feels similar to your hair," he spoke, putting their small luggage to the bags and attaching the sword to the saddle. Bontenmaru patted his head again, as if he wanted to confirm what Kagetsuna had said. "It's time to get on," Kagetsuna announced, checking the tack once more. "We have to fit in one saddle, so you won't be very comfortable, Bontenmaru-sama," he warned. "Besides, there's a long way ahead of us, so you are likely to graze your legs and the rest," he added. "I put the blanket for you, but I suppose it will help only a bit."

The boy looked up at the horseback. He couldn't see a lot from below anyway. "It's so boring in the palanquin," he stated out of the blue.

"You will sit in front of me," Kagetsuna continued. "If you were older, you would be able to ride in the back, gripping my sash, but for now it's not possible. You will have to grip the pommel, but I will hold you too, so don't worry, you won't fall. Oh, I know. I'll put another belt around Chestnut's neck. It will be better this way," he decided and adjusted the equipment with a strap taken out of the bag.

Bontenmaru was standing in silence and stared at those actions, his eyes wide open. "You really know all about it, don't you?" he finally said, and the genuine respect rang in his voice.

"You will too once you're at my age," Kagetsuna replied. "Who knows if not even better. Are you ready?"

The boy nodded. Kagetsuna seated him in the saddle, handing the additional belt over to him. It didn't look that bad, he realized, taking Chestnut out of the stable. From a distance, he spotted two strapping men he remembered from the field work, standing by the gate. Now they had been designated by the temple superior to guard the entry - or, rather, the exit. They didn't stop him. Their faces bleak, they wished him good tracks, and he wished them luck. They bid farewell to each other, hoping to meet again.

Having passed the gate, Kagetsuna mounted Chestnut and took his place behind Bontenmaru. It wasn't as bad as he had worried. At least, not now, he reflected afterwards. Once they would speed up to the gallop, or just the canter...

"Are you okay?" he asked, putting the left arm around the boy and taking the reins in the left one.

Bontenmaru squirmed a little and then squeezed his makeshift reins as well. "I'm okay," he answered, his voice a bit shaky.

"Then we're off, Bontenmaru-sama," Kagetsuna said, squeezing the sides of the horse. "First we'll ride fast, then we'll slower down," he informed the boy.

Chestnut started down the path from the hill the temple was situated on, quickening the pace with each step. His hooves were sending the rocks in the air. Once they reached the southern high-way, Kagetsuna ordered the horse to run.

Soon Ungan-ji was left far behind their backs.

* * *

* Hour of the Hare (or Rabbit) - period of time between 5 a.m. and 7 a.m.

** Hour of the Dragon - period of time between 7 a.m. and 9 a.m.

*** ri - in old Japanese system of measurement 1 ri ≈ 3.927 kilometres ≈ 2.440 miles


	7. Chapter 7

**~7~**  
**Home**

* * *

As Kagetsuna had promised, they travelled the first distance at full speed. Had Kagetsuna not considered himself a good rider, he would have likely thought it over - not only the pace, but the travel itself. Only after a while he realized what he was doing. He had simply taken the son and successor of daimyo and set out on a long journey without as much as a sword at his waist. Yesterday, or merely some hours ago, he wouldn't have imagined anything like this - but then the world had been turned upside down, and now Katakura Kagetsuna was racing down the sandy track with a heir to the Date family in tow. Anything could have happened, including many events he couldn't prevent. He was in a cold sweat by the very thought of it...

_Ojizō-sama, Protector of Children, guard him from harm. Oh, Kannon, Goddess of Mercy, lay your kindly sight upon us. Oh, Fudō Myō-ō... Keep all evil away from us._

Still, he knew he couldn't have done otherwise. He couldn't have left the boy in the temple, where the danger was more than real. If he had been given another choice, he would have done the same thing. Of course the boy deserved better treatment; after all, he already was one of the most important people in the region and someone who would yet rule those lands. He deserved much better than furious horse ride in one saddle with a samurai son who wasn't even a man yet. He should have travelled in palanquin, slept in the inns and eaten delicacies he was used to. He should have had a retinue or, at least, an armed escort to guarantee his safety. It would have looked like this if they could wait several days.

Yet they couldn't. There was no time to waste. There was no time to hire a bodyguard. To send a message. To do anything more. Kagetsuna was under the impression he could feel the breath of death on his back, and had to take Bontenmaru out of its reach as soon as possible. He didn't want to think about the punishment that awaited him, but he knew he would accept anything without as much as a word of complain or protest. He knew he was doing the right thing - or, actually, he had to tell it himself over and over again to repress the anxiety welling up in him and the feeling of guilt that he revolted against the rules.

By the way... He mused. It was odd that a son of daimyo had been left in the temple in the small village, far from home, without as much as one servant and one soldier by his side. Now that he thought about it, he realized such action had been quite reckless of the Date. Surely, there was peace in the region, especially after the alliance two greatest families had formed by Lord Terumune's and Lady Yoshihime's marriage. The Akita clan, that ruled the lands Ungan-ji was located on, didn't count in the struggle for power and remained the ally of Date and Mogami. Still, it was always possible that someone would like to take advantage of the situation and simply kidnap the boy. The monks of Ungan-ji weren't warriors, so what resistance they could have put up to the possible assailant?

A first-born son of daimyo should be guarded as the apple of the eye, then why Lord Terumune had showed such short-sightedness? He could have summoned the teachers to the castle instead and provided the boy with the same education at home. Terumune had always been an idealist, but such belief in human goodness seemed naivety and, what was more, could have drastic implications.

Well, forget the possible kidnapping and consider the actual situation instead. Absolutely everything could have happened in Ungan-ji: a fire, an assault of bandits, a plague - this had happened indeed. Who would have been to take care of the boy and ensure his safety? Kagetsuna felt his hair raise. Had it been not for him, what fate would have befallen Bontenmaru?

He hadn't thought of it earlier because the mood had been almost idyllic and the days kept passing undisturbed. He had focused on the fact he had found his sense of purpose, and he had focused on Bontenmaru. They had spent the time together, and everything had been like it should be. But once it had ceased to be, Kagetsuna started to wonder about it and came to the conclusion that many things weren't like they should have been.

Even if Lady Yoshihime had managed to get rid of her son from Yonezawa - for the reason only she knew - it was a mystery how she had succeeded in selling Lord Terumune on this. This was something Kagetsuna preferred not to consider, for he didn't like it at all. Of course, there was yet another scenario: Yoshihime had discovered someone wanted to harm the boy in Yonezawa, and that was how she had tried to ensure his safety - but such theory seemed far-fetched for him. Besides, despite the best efforts, Kagetsuna no longer could see Yoshihime a woman who cared deeply for Bontenmaru. Although he really, really wanted to be wrong...

Either way, it was his hands that the fate of Bontenmaru rested in now, and he would be damned for eternity if he didn't bring the boy safely home. Well, it was clear as day that in such case only death awaited him, and he couldn't expect anything else. However, what really mattered was that, deep in his heart, he wanted to protect the boy at all costs and would never forgive himself if anything happened to him through his fault. Not because the boy was the heir to the Date, but because he was Bontenmaru.

Still, Kagetsuna didn't intend to think about what could happen on the way. He preferred to trust Jizō, Kannon and Fudō Myō-ō. However, had they been attacked by the robbers, the information of the plague should be enough...

"Kagetsuna?" the boy's quiet voice rang over the sound of wind and shook him out of his reverie.

"What is it, Bontenmaru-sama?"

"When are we going to stop?"

Kagetsuna held back a wince and the remark they had barely started. After all, it was something to be expected. Once he raised his head, however, he realized they must have already travelled quite a distance, which he hadn't noticed, deep in thought. In the meantime, Chestnut had slowed down by himself, but it was clear he had had his fill of running. Kagetsuna took a look around.

"We will go to that hill, all right?"

"All right."

He had covered this way only a month ago and still remembered where the water was to be found. Besides, the high-road mostly ran in the valley, so the streams where expected. They made a stop in the shade of a tree. Kagetsuna helped Bontenmaru down, and Chestnut put the muzzle right away in the cool water. The boy was standing and looking around, unsure.

"Are you hungry?"

Bontenmaru shook his head. "Have to pee."

"Oh, I see." He should have realized it. "Well, you can deal with it by yourself, don't you?"

Bontenmaru gave him a rather shy smile and disappeared behind the tree. Kagetsuna drank from the stream, while Chestnut started to nibble the grass. So far, everything had been going smoothly. Kagetsuna had to admit that the self-discipline of the boy proved to be very helpful. He didn't complain and didn't whine. He didn't speak at all. If he was afraid, he didn't show it. If he had fun, he was able to hide it as well. To tell the truth, Kagetsuna began to realize he should have ordered the stopover earlier.

The boy appeared soon, adjusting his clothing.

"How is the ride?" Kagetsuna asked, checking the tack.

"I have never been riding like this before," Bontenmaru replied not very concretely.

Kagetsuna smiled. "Which means?" he kept inquiring.

"It's fast. It shakes a bit. But I'm not afraid to fall down."

"Are you not cold? Or too hot?"

"No, it's all right."

"Are you bruised anywhere?"

The boy blushed. "Maybe a little..." he answered, embarrassed.

"Does it hurt a lot?" Kagetsuna asked sympathetically.

"No-o..."

"I have a spare blanket. I'll put it under, although I don't believe it helps much." Kagetsuna looked into the bags.

"Kagetsuna?"

"Yes?"

"Why have we left? You said you would tell me."

Kagetsuna put out a blanket and placed it over the other ones. For a while, he was silent.

"People started to fall ill in the village, Bontenmaru-sama. I decided you should leave that place as fast as possible."

Bontenmaru stared at him, eyes wide open. "Ill? With what?"

"There's no knowing for sure," Kagetsuna replied. "But it may be a dangerous plague."

"Do you think we have already caught it?" the boy's voice was unusually calm for such revelation; there was even some excitement to it.

Kagetsuna looked at him. Well, Bontenmaru had never experienced the horror of the plague, and the very idea must have been abstract for him, something he knew only from tales. It was only natural he was regarding the matter in a different way. As if it was an adventure.

"I hope not, Bontenmaru-sama," the youth answered, his tone serious. "But we can't be sure," he added cautiously. "You have met with the village children. Has anyone of them been unwell?" He hadn't intended to ask this question, but it came on his tongue anyway.

Now he was afraid to heard the answer.

"Oh, no-one has been well, never," Bontenmaru replied quite carelessly. "Lately, we even bragged about who suffered more. I had the mosquito bite, but it didn't impress anyone, you know?"

"Well, I don't think the villagers use the nets, so they are well accustomed..." Kagetsuna hid his smile.

"Iku was coughing, so sensei told him to take another seat," Bontenmaru went on, "Keiji bruised his knee and couldn't run, and Tadao was sneezing all the time and interfered with the lesson."

"Sneezed?"

"He told he always does in the harvest."

Right. Kagetsuna remembered to having come across such phenomenon when hay-making had started in Kaneyama. "Bontenmaru-sama, have you ever been ill?"

The boy shook his head again. "I don't think so. But I often have a runny nose. And my head hurts sometimes."

"From studying?" Kagetsuna asked half-jokingly, tilting his head.

"I suppose so," Bontenmaru stated seriously. "But I don't think I study too much."

"Well, now you have a break," Kagetsuna threw casually. The boy looked at him for a while and then beamed. "Unless you want us to revise _The King of Prayers_," Kagetsuna added, a flicker in his eye.

Any other child would give an evasive answer and opt rather for playing, but Bontenmaru's eyes flashed, and the boy nodded enthusiastically. Kagetsuna right away started to wonder if he could remember the text himself... Anyway, he was happy that he managed to change the subject.

"Well, off we go. We will recite as we ride," he ordered. "Are you sure you don't want to eat or drink? All right then, but now we're going to ride until noon without a stopover," he informed, seating the boy in the saddle. "If you're hungry, you'll eat on the way. If you need to pee, just tell me, and we will stop then."

"All right."

Kagetsuna sat behind him, and they resumed their journey, mostly at the pace of canter, from time to time at full gallop, if the terrain allowed it. Chestnut was doing well, and Kagetsuna let him rest wherever the horse seemed to need it. Bontenmaru drifted to sleep already before the tenth verse; his head fell, and Kagetsuna pulled him closer. He tried to drive evenly. Bontenmaru must have been weary due to early waking and the travel itself, and the sensations accompanying the trip weren't without any significance either. Kagetsuna was glad the boy maintained his good spirits; it was enough that he himself was worrying about the situation. The longer Bontenmaru treated it all as an adventure, the better.

To tell the truth - Kagetsuna got lost in contemplation again - he had once again realized the same thing that he had been surprised to discover earlier, in the morning. Despite the danger they were escaping from - although Kagetsuna didn't know if they would even succeed - he was able to relax and take pleasure in the boy's presence. He almost could convince himself that their journey had different reason and goal. It could be that the boy's excitation had somehow infected him, too, because, as they were covering another miles, he was able to perceive and enjoy the beauty of the late summer, embodied in the golden greenness of leaves and in the clean air, sweet-smelling with various wild flowers. The morning mist had long since dispersed, showing the infinite sky, its palest blueness having turned into the deepest, the richest azure. The day was as fine as all days before it, and it was even harder to believe in the ominous shadow, lurking somewhere and not diminishing even though they were getting away from Ungan-ji with every step.

By noon they had a longer stop. Kagetsuna spread a blanket on the grass, for it didn't befit a heir to the Date to sit on the bare ground. Still, it didn't seem to make any difference to Bontenmaru, who took his place with an evident wince. He didn't say a word, though. Kagetsuna put out their provisions and offered an austere meal that Bontenmaru attacked with enthusiasm of a hungry child, not necessarily a daimyo-to-be. They had some rice, fish and dried vegetables, as well as milk and stream water to drink. Chestnut was given some hay, sugar and salt - and all of them were happy. The sun was beating down, but the tree was giving pleasant shade. They were resting.

When they took up their ride again, Kagetsuna set more leisurely pace. They had already covered a considerable distance, and the day was still young. Master Kosai had been right when talking about the long journey, but Kagetsuna allowed himself cautious and timid estimate that, granted that nothing intervened, they should reach their destination by evening - including several shorter breaks. And then he would have to procure a new horse, for Chestnut deserved a rest; it was out of the question that he ran to Yonezawa tomorrow.

The sun was rolling over the skies, and the scenery seemed more a highland now. Well, the real mountains were situated eastwards, and, compared to them, here was rather foothills. Kagetsuna had exaggerated a little, saying that Kaneyama was a mountain village; on the other hand, if the viewpoint was in flat like a pancake Yonezawa, then everything that lay little higher could be considered a hill or, at least, an upland. The track they were riding was one of the oldest, as well as most important, in the region and it was well maintained. They didn't meet many travellers, though. People were busy with harvest - they could see them working in the rice fields along the way - and it wasn't the time for the ventures. Merchants were the only ones who moved regardless of the season, but Kagetsuna didn't stop anyone to talk. He remember the priest's request to keep away from others.

He thought of the disease again, frowning. The plague was a fact; the villager wouldn't have come with a warning if it had been something trifling. Quite another thing was if Bontenmaru had already caught it. And what about Kagetsuna himself? He was rather ignorant about the topic, but he guessed there were many different kinds of disease. The one that had taken his mother had been fulminant; it had passed through Yonezawa in three days and put at least fifth of the population to death. Smallpox, for all he knew, was much more sneaky. One could carry it within them for many days without realizing it.

He broke out into a cold sweat, looking at his hand holding the reins, as well as tiny hands of Bontenmaru on the pommel. He pressed the boy to himself, making Bontenmaru turn his head and regard him with surprise. No, they had surely made it. He was not allowed to even consider an option that Bontenmaru would fall ill. It was not what they were rushing like hell for... They weren't fleeing from the pestilence to be reached by it in the end. Everything would be all right.

It was as if Bontenmaru had read his thoughts - or Kagetsuna had them written all over his face - for he suddenly spoke, "What will happen to them? The ones in Ungan-ji."

"Dainichi Buddha will protect them," Kagetsuna replied. What else could he say?

The boy fell silent. It seemed he wondered about something. "I'd like to return there," he said after a while, and there was some regret in his voice.

"Let's hope you would," Kagetsuna consoled him, although he had a feeling they shouldn't count on it. He didn't know any longer if it was a right thing to do to send Bontenmaru to Ungan-ji; he thought he would rather try to persuade Lord Terumune otherwise if he got a chance to talk to him. Provided that daimyo would listen to someone who wasn't even a samurai yet.

"Maybe I can pray for them?"

"It is very praiseworthy of you, Bontenmaru-sama."

"Do you think they will die?"

"Let's believe they won't."

The boy brooded again. It seemed he was really saying his prayers for people he had met in Ungan-ji. Kagetsuna felt a vague pang inside.

He was becoming more and more convinced that Bontenmaru had inherited rather from his father than mother. He had that peculiar wisdom allowing him to see - or intuitively feel - more than average person, and some particular sensitivity to himself. Date Terumune was a man concerned for his people and he cared deeply about their welfare. Despite it he didn't lack authority, and greatly mistaken would be the one who considered him a weakling. Kagetsuna admired Lord Terumune from the bottom of his heart... and Bontenmaru already promised to become equally exceptional. As for his aspirations... 'I want to be like Fudō Myō-ō,' he remembered the boy's words. Yes, Bontenmaru definitely promised to become like his father, but Kagetsuna was inclined to believe that it would not end with becoming equal. Bontenmaru had all predispositions to evolve into the head of the Date like no-one before him.

"I've never seen anyone die," the boy spoke.

Kagetsuna stirred. Bontenmaru must have finished his prayers and kept contemplating the difficult matters of the plague. "Me either. At least not that much," he answered.

"But when your mother died, you were surely sad."

"Like I told you, I barely remember her..."

Bontenmaru turned to look at him again and then fixed his eyes straight ahead. "Do you think a daimyo can make it so that no-one would die?"

Kagetsuna smiled. "I don't think so, Bontenmaru-sama. But he can try to ensure safety for his people and thus make them live as long as possible. Still, you have to remember that a samurai must never forget about death. Whenever he draws his sword, he looks in the eye of death."

"That's what they used to say in the castle," the boy admitted.

"That's why some believe that they shouldn't waste their short life on idle fun and passions. Others, however, assume quite the contrary, namely that they should live their life untamed."

"And what do you think?"

"Me? I agree with the former, but I think I understand the latter, too."

"Aha."

For a moment, they rode in silence, disturbed only by the clatter of Chestnut's hooves.

"Once I become a daimyo, I'll make sure my people are pleased with their life," Bontenmaru announced suddenly.

"Very well, Bontenmaru-sama."

"But I still don't want them die," the boy added with some hesitation.

"I suppose no-one wants, but it's not something you can help," Kagetsuna pointed out.

"It's a bit stupid that people are born only to die, don't you think?"

"What does Buddha tell about it?"

"That life is a suffering."

Kagetsuna felt like scratching his head. Their discussion had suddenly turned into quite unexpected direction and... Was he about to debate the theological issues with a five-year-old boy? It wasn't only strange by itself - although, he had already grown accustomed to it, at least a little - but he had never been sure if he provided Bontenmaru a proper partner in conversation on such topic. Not to mention that the topic itself was rather complex and its understanding, if possible at all, required probably tougher brains that those of a small boy, even if daimyo-to-be, and a bit older son of samurai. Still, Bontenmaru showed a genuine will - or, at least, a curiosity, so typical of child - to explore the matter, and thus Kagetsuna should strain himself and contribute to his growth. Even if he had always been of opinion that the teachings were confusing and, in addition, their Japanese interpretation differed from the Chinese, in the end everyone was obliged to find their own answers - although it didn't make anything easier. He had studied the basics of the religion for years; still, Master Shōkei had told him to meditate and draw conclusions.

And how was anyone to derive support from the Doctrine? he thought somewhat blasphemously. Maybe the boy was right after all.

"I think," he started cautiously, "it's not exactly so. With this suffering, I mean. Indeed, samsara* means suffering, but only in comparison with nirvana, that is an absolute happiness and peace. Life equals suffering because it's not nirvana," he claimed, quite contented with himself. "However, it doesn't mean that a person should suffer in life. Such concept would be, like you said, stupid."

"You think so?"

He didn't know, but what else could he say to a child who apparently tried to put in order the truths of life in his small head? One day he would find the answer himself.

"I think so."

"Then, how is it related to dying?" the boy persisted in inquiring.

_Oh, Amida Buddha, save me._

"I reckon there's nothing bad with the feeling you don't want the dear people to die."

He didn't need the teachings of Buddha to draw such conclusions, he realized afterwards. Bontenmaru smiled with satisfaction and didn't say any more. Kagetsuna's mind was occurred by a thought if his further discussions with the boy wouldn't shatter the latter's outlook some day, but if he started to worry about it now, there would be no use of it. He had more important matters to worry over.

Once again he thought of the plague. Its realization constantly returned to him, regardless of how many times he tried to drive it away.

He clenched his hands on the reins. No, he was not to give in to something he could do nothing about. He had better focused on the present, especially there was reason for it. The landscape was ascending and undulating. They were drawing near the highest point of their journey. They rode past Innai and turned west, only to soon proceed south again. The road had been running in the valley for a while now, but the enclosing hills became higher and higher. South-westwards, he could spot Mount Daisen, and south-eastwards - Mount Eboshi, even higher. Beyond it spread the whole mountain range that made a boundary of the province. After one hour they climbed up the pass on the border of territories and found themselves in the land of the Mogami clan.

Slowly yet inevitably, the evening was approaching; Kagetsuna supposed the Hour of the Dog** was close. In mountains, night used to fall sooner, but they were almost there; only the last part of the journey awaited them. Chestnut was doing well, although, of them, he was the most tired. Kagetsuna already started to feel the effects of all-day ride and preferred not to think about Bontenmaru, who must have been exhausted. Of course, there was no word of complain on his part. The boy had fallen silence a while ago; it was likely that he was sleeping.

The road was ramping down now, along the river again, but then they were forced to ascend a little. After they passed the difficult stage, and Kagetsuna spotted well known peaks of Harumori and Hajimori, he knew the worst had been past them. Chestnut must have felt it too, for he sped up, running down on the lowlands. It woke Bontenmaru, who looked around, as if trying to grasp the situation.

"We will be there before sunset," Kagetsuna informed him.

"The sun has already set," the boy pointed out the truth, staring at the mountains, the sky beyond them reddening with an evening glow.

"Look east," Kagetsuna urged him. "You see? The tops are still light-some."

The boy nodded.

An evening shade had already covered the valleys, but it got a bit lighter when they went on the plain. They had yet to go round the shapely hill of Yakushi-san and...

"Can you see those houses? It's Kaneyama," Kagetsuna called and was surprise at the warm feeling those words evoked.

He couldn't hold his smile. Bontenmaru turned his head and cast an intent look at him. "You're happy," he decided.

"I'm happy we've made it. In fact, I feel like shouting with joy," Kagetsuna confessed quite unexpectedly for himself.

"Like at war," Bontenmaru said, just like this.

"Well, you could consider such a long ride a serious win," Kagetsuna had to agree with the boy. "Thus, you may regard this journey your first victory, Bontenmaru-sama," he suggested. "With me by your side," he added although he hadn't planned.

The boy turned again and looked at him as enigmatically as before. Kagetsuna fixed his eyes on the roofs ahead, hoping that his blush wasn't visible in the falling dusk. Really, what had made him say such declarations...?

"We're going home, boy! Do you have some strength left for the last run?" he asked Chestnut, getting hold of himself. The horse shook his head, as if to confirm. "Hold on, we're going fast," Kagetsuna called out to the boy, punching his heels into the sides of Chestnut, who raced forward.

Until now, whenever they could, they had skirted the villages, but now they ran through Kaneyama at full speed. The streets were empty; no-one looked back at them. Most people had already retired after another hard day of the harvest. Only a dog barked, to be soon followed by another. Kagetsuna didn't slow down, driving Chestnut along the well known route - or could it be that the horse himself knew where to go, sensing home? The shrine stood alone, to be seen from afar due to the torches blazing by its entrance and showing the way to the ones that needed light.

The hooves clattered on the stone; Chestnut barged into the yard when the last light of sun went out on the peak of Kamuro-san that towered in the east. It was already dark here, but the warm glow of fire dispelled the murk. Kagetsuna felt the peace descending upon him, maybe the first time that day. Everything was familiar; everything was... like home. The cat, intrigued by such unexpected visit, entered the circle of light, then sat down by the door and began to lick her coat, and Kagetsuna couldn't hold back his smile. Only now he remembered he had left here but a month ago.

So many things had changed in such short time - but not here.

He took a deep breath and patted Chestnut on the neck. "Good job," he said with affection, and the horse neighed.

"Kagetsuna," a deep voice rang out, making the youth's head snap up. "You haven't kidnapped the heir to the Date, have you?" A tall figure emerged from the shadow. Katakura Kagenaga's attentive dark eyes were fixed upon the boy, who hang on to the pommel.

"Good evening, father," Kagetsuna replied, alighting the horse and bowing.

Kagenaga came closer and grabbed Chestnut by the bridle, stroking his nose with the other hand. "You have travelled a long-distance," he said calmly, looking at Bontenmaru again and then shifting his eyes to son.

"We're riding from Ungan-ji, father," Kagetsuna spoke the truth, helping the boy down. "Forgive us, we show up without notice..."

"It's your home, Kagetsuna," father interrupted him. "If you're coming in such hurry, you must have had your reasons."

Kagetsuna froze, which couldn't have escaped his father. Bontenmaru looked at him expectantly. "A plague broke out in the area. We couldn't stay there. I can't even tell if we have already caught it. Father, forgive me that despite knowing it I'm coming here..."

"It's your home," Kagenaga repeated, frowning. "What kind of plague?"

"They suspect smallpox."

"The more reason why you shouldn't worry. I went through it in childhood."

Kagetsuna heaved a sigh of relief.

"What is smallpox?" came from below. They have almost forgotten about Bontenmaru.

"It's one of the diseases that cause the plague," Kagetsuna answered, kneeling by him. "Father, this is Bontenmaru..."

"How come you knew who I am?" the boy must have livened up since his innate curiosity showed up. Now, he was boring inquiring eyes into Kagenaga. Kagetsuna felt like asking the same question.

"Once I served your father, as well as his father before it," Kagenaga replied quietly. "I remember Lord Terumune from time he was at your age. You are the dead spit of him."

"I look like my father?" Bontenmaru hesitated, as if he couldn't decide whether he should be happy or not.

"You may believe me," the man ensured him. "Let me introduce myself. My name is Katakura Kagenaga," he said in a serious tone. "I am Kagetsuna's father," he added as if it wasn't been obvious.

"Kagetsuna has told me a lot about you," the boy declared with contentment.

"Is that so? Well, we won't stay in the yard..."

"I'll take care of Chestnut," Kagetsuna offered, taking the reins. "Bontenmaru-sama, please, go with my father. I'm sorry about the conditions. The house is modest. But tomorrow you will be at castle."

Despite fatigue, he picked up the watchful gaze his father cast him. Kagenaga, however, didn't comment, only turned to Bontenmaru, "I can tell walking isn't the easiest thing for you now. If you have spent the whole day in the saddle, you have performed a great feat." The boy mumbled something in reply. It seemed his pain was too big for a praise to alleviate it. "We'll remedy it in no time."

"Are you a doctor?" Bontenmaru asked in disbelief.

"No, but I was a soldier," a smile rang in Kagenaga's voice. "When serving your father, I spent more years on horseback than you number. I know how to ease such pains..."

When Kagetsuna came from the stable, Bontenmaru had a quick bath past him and a herbal dressing on him, judging from the smell that filled the room. Now he was trying not to fall asleep over the bowl of soup.

"Have a bath," Kagenaga instructed, taking vessel from the boy's hands and picked him up. "We will talk later."

Kagetsuna did as he was told, making an effort to keep his eyes open and not follow Bontenmaru, who must have been already sleeping in the bedding Kagenaga had prepared for him. The bath helped him invigorate and washed off at least some of the fatigue. After a moment, he could think more coherently.

It was strange. Whenever he returned home, he simply - instinctively - became his father's son. When staying out, he always acted unaided and aimed at adulthood, improving himself every day, making decisions and forming opinions. Regardless of the place. Here, at home, it was different. Was it for his father's paternal authority or some inner need of himself - it was as if he was moving back, as if he was a child again, one that could observe the world from behind the adults' shoulders and wasn't required any serious actions of.

Or maybe it was the most natural thing in the world? 'It's your home,' father had said. Kagetsuna was under the impression he hadn't heard anything so wonderful in a long time.

He went back to the main room and took the place he had used to take earlier this summer. It was a rule that they ate their meals together: breakfast after the field work, lunch at noon, dinner at sunset. Now it was already night, but the situation was different, too. He poured himself soup and put some rice on. Father sat in silence, not disturbing his meal. Over the bowl, Kagetsuna kept casting furtive glances at him, only to be responded with composure that characterized Kagenaga's all actions. Every samurai ought to control himself, and, in Kagenaga's case, priesthood could only strengthen such discipline. Kagetsuna wanted to become like his father, although sometimes it seemed an unattainable goal...

Kagenaga was wearing his normal daily clothes - and emanated such authority it was almost terrifying. Taller than his son, broader in the shoulders and muscular, although he had long since put the sword aside. His skin little darker than of his son, who inherited the complexion from his mother. Hair short, as befitted a priest, still black as the midnight sky. His eyes intent, seeing every detail. His lips thin, rarely smiling. He was serious, focused and self-confident. He was like a rock. Compared with him, Kagetsuna felt like a leaf being carried away by a wind.

"Let the wisdom of Kosai-dono keep favouring us," father's voice shook Kagetsuna out of his reverie.

The youth blinked, putting the bowl aside and thanking for the meal. "He is enjoying good health," he said, uncertain what father had on his mind.

"I'm sure of this," Kagenaga admitted.

"He would like to meet with you, but he is busy," Kagetsuna added the obvious thing.

"If I, taking care of a small shrine, have no time to pay him a visit, then he can even less afford it," Kagenaga stated impassively.

"I'm sure he would have sent a letter if we hadn't had to leave so suddenly," Kagetsuna felt inner need to assure his father of the favour of the superior of Ungan-ji. "He talked warmly about you." He remembered something and frowned. "I met Lady Yoshihime. She sends her regards. She remembered you." Kagenaga kept silent, his expression unchanged. "Bontenmaru-sama was to go to Yonezawa in few days. They have already left to fetch him... But everything got complicated. To think that only yesterday we were so ignorant..."

"Each day brings new challenge with it. Such is the law of life."

"Tomorrow we have to move on. To Yonezawa."

"Tomorrow you won't go anywhere. None of you."

"Father..."

"Chestnut must get some rest. The boy too. Even if we had another horse, I wouldn't let you take him," Kagenaga decided in a tone that didn't leave any room for discussion.

Besides, he had a point.

"Even if you're in hurry, you won't reach Yonezawa in one day," he continued. "The best would be to travel in three days, with first stop in Obanazawa. If you have no choice, go to Yamagata. The boy is Mogami Yoshiaki's nephew, so you will be received well. But it's still almost twenty ri."

"I know, father. It is what I'll do," Kagetsuna replied humbly.

"But this time you won't go without any guard. I'll find you someone tomorrow." He mused. "Yasuo has finished his harvest. He should be free... Unless..."

"Father..." the youth's voice was hesitant. "How it is with that smallpox?"

Kagenaga gave him his typical penetrating look, but Kagetsuna was under the impression father's sight got a bit warmer. "Sometimes grave, sometimes easier," the man answered after a while. "In our family everyone survived. Our neighbours lost three children and the fourth one was left seriously deformed."

Kagetsuna clenched his fists. Suddenly, he felt very bad. "Tell me about it, please," he stuttered out.

Something was squeezing his throat. He hardly ever thought of his mother, yet now it felt as if she was near. Maybe she was? He remembered her vaguely, single images of their home in Yonezawa. Casual, normal. Now his mind brought forward another visions, from the days before the fatal disease had taken her away. At least she couldn't have suffered a lot. And the life was suffering...

His head snapped up. He was under the impression he was falling asleep. His thoughts had scattered, like when you're lying in your bed, between waking and sleeping. He rubbed his forehead and looked in the direction of the altar. Blueness of the flowers tranquillised. For a moment his heart had been beating fast and now it returned to normal. He sipped the tea from the mug, trying to focus.

"I haven't much to tell," Kagenaga stated. "I was at Bontenmaru's age then and never again had to deal with it."

"Kosai-sensei spoke of rash," Kagetsuna recalled the priests' words.

"Rash is the most prominent symptom, after all. On the face, hands and trunk. It leaves scars." Kagetsuna squinted, inspecting his father's face. "No point in looking, mine are barely visible. Maybe in daylight, and on hands," he pulled up his sleeves, "buy not much."

"Is it the rash that people die from?"

"Hmm... I don't know. But I remember the pain takes the whole body. I suppose the disease reaches the inner organs, which are more important than skin. But it seems it spreads through the skin."

Kagetsuna nodded. Still, it was not what he most wanted - and feared - to ask. "Is..." he started and paused. It was so hard to say it aloud, but he had to have courage, for burying his head in the sand didn't change anything. "Is it true that people fall ill only some time... after contraction? That you can be... ill and not know about it?"

Kagenaga gave him an inscrutable look and didn't say anything. Kagetsuna was under the impression his father was thinking what to say. "So it seems," he finally said. Kagetsuna lowered his eyes, focusing on his knees. "But you shouldn't worry prematurely," Kagenaga added in a firm tone. "You have left quickly, so there's a chance you don't have to bother yourselves with it at all."

Kagetsuna looked at him, thankfully. Even if he felt like a kid whenever in his father's presence, it was a price he paid for the assurance and security he always received from him. At least today he was able to accept it. He needed it like never before.

It seemed to him that father was smiling, but it could be as well only an illusion caused by the flickering candlelight. Every minute, Kagetsuna became convinced he had really returned home, if only for a moment. The cat has finished her hunt and was now sitting by the wall, occupying herself with her evening toilette. The stray gust of wind brushed the shrine with its wing, bringing to their ears the clatter of ema***. After a while, it was quiet again.

"Put your concern off till tomorrow. Now it's time to rest," Kagenaga decided, standing up. "I'll clean up," he said upon noticing the look Kagetsuna gave to the vessels.

Kagetsuna rose and bowed his head to thank - for everything. "Goodnight, father," he spoke, aware he would like to say much more yet he would never have enough courage.

"Goodnight, son," Kagenaga replied. "I'm glad to see you," he added with unusual frankness.

"Me too," the youth whispered, feeling again a lump in his throat.

Absent-minded, he went to the bedroom and lay down near Bontenmaru. Contrary to expectations, he fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. The last sound he heard was the slam of the shutters in the shrine.

* * *

* samsara - the cycle of birth, life, death, rebirth or reincarnation within Buddhism, Hinduism, and other Indian religions

** Hour of the Dog - period of time between 7 p.m. and 9 p.m.

*** ema - small wooden plaques on which Shinto worshippers write their prayers or wishes

_(wikipedia)_


	8. Chapter 8

**~8~**  
**Endō Motonobu**

* * *

Kagetsuna opened his eyes, not sure what had waked him up. Upon seeing a wooden ceiling, he blinked. For a moment he tried to gen up on situation. Sunlight was coming in through the open window, as well as the aromatic air and crumbs of conversation that an adult and child were having. He jerked up on the bed - and all his muscles protested, with pain reminding him of the recent strain. He was at home, in Kaneyama, and, according to the position of the sun, it had to be the Hour of the Snake* already. He couldn't quite remember the last time he had slept for so long.

He turned his head. The bedding of Bontenmaru had been rolled up, and he himself was nowhere to be seen. Judging from the voices, he must have been in the yard, brisk and well-rested. Kagetsuna wondered if he could say the same about himself. His body was sore after the day-long ride, but his mind - once he recovered from the drowsiness - was livening up every minute. He lay down again, stretching his arms over his head. Actually, he... felt great. Only now he was starting to grasp the whole of what he had accomplished. He had managed to cover the distance between Ungan-ji and Kaneyama - in one day, with a small boy in tow, and safely. It was a feat he could be proud of, even if he didn't intend t brag about it.

Soon he realized another thing: if he himself was so satisfied with it, then Bontenmaru deserved far greater credit. Now that he pondered on it, he had really exposed the boy to the torture - although he hadn't thought of it before the travel at all, focusing on other matters. It could be that the physical effects of that dreadful ride he was now experiencing in his all body made him identify with the boy's condition from the more mundane side. And feel even more greater respect for him - along with some guilt.

Speaking of which... Regardless of the objections each part of his body raised, he didn't let himself the further lie-in. He had already slept too much - while Bontenmaru must have been up for a while now. Actually, it was unacceptable that the son of samurai was resting while the son of daimyo frolicked in the yard of the former's house.

He went out, squinting in the bright sunlight and trying to take the scenery in. Father was sitting by the shed, apparently busy with inspection of the tools although he never let Bontenmaru out of his sight. The boy was making the acquaintance of the cat, waving a long straw in her face and teasing her pride. The pride prevailed, though, and the cat leapt in the thicket. It was but a matter of time that she would rethink it, return and kindly agree to the play.

"Good morning, son," Kagenaga lifted his eyes from the hoe and greeted him calmly.

Bontenmaru turned from nettle clump that his newest friend had vanished into, and beamed. "Good morning, Kagetsuna!" he called out and came closer.

"Father, Bontenmaru-sama..."

"Smarten yourself up and then bring your meal here," father instructed. "I've got to have a word with you."

The last one, despite being spoken in casual tone, sounded puzzling enough for Kagetsuna to deal with the morning toilet swiftly and return into the yard with a fair share of breakfast. Father finished his work and sat down next to him, as well as Bontenmaru, who apparently had took liking to Katakura Senior - or so it seemed to Kagetsuna.

"I went to the village," Kagenaga began straight from the shoulder. "I left a message in the inn. Endō Motonobu should pay us a visit soon."

Had it been not for his self-control, Kagetsuna would surely drop the sticks or chock on his rice. Things being as they were, he only blinked, astonished. "Endō Motonobu?"

"I guess you didn't count the days in all this turmoil," Kagenaga said, but there was no reproach in his voice. "Yesterday, you mentioned they were going to come for the boy. It happened that the escort sent for him has spent the last night in Kaneyama. Today they were to move on, get across the mountains. Yasuo told me. His house is near the inn, and such news travel fast."

"Have you spoken with them?"

"No, it was too early to disturb them. After all, it's not a matter of war... Like I told, I left a message. We know each other personally, so I believe Endō-dono will show up soon. He will surely be surprised..."

Kagetsuna continued his meal in silence. Bontenmaru didn't speak at all, listening to their conversation attentively. Kagetsuna regarded him. You really wouldn't tell the yesterday's journey's of him. Children were amazing. Although, when Kagetsuna recollected his own childhood... That time you had taken no notice of any pains; you had just run ahead, wanting to know what had been around the corner. Bruised elbows and knees, scratches, strained muscles - it had been of no importance in comparison with the fascination with world. Or, perhaps, it simply healed faster than in adults? Bontenmaru was sitting with his hair straggly, and his shining eyes were following the cat, that had just showed herself from behind the shed and was now looking around.

Bontenmaru would be much comfortable in palanquin, Kagetsuna decided, although he couldn't not notice some disappointment that accompanied this thought.

A sudden realization struck him, and he lost his appetite. His hand froze halfway between the bowl and his mouth. He put the vessel down. "So, does it mean that Endō-dono will simply take Bontenmaru-sama to Yonezawa? Today?" he said blandly.

Kagenaga gave him an attentive look, so typical of him. "First he have to learn that the boy is here. Then he will decide. But is it something to sulk about?"

"I'm not sulking. I..." Kagetsuna lowered his eyes, feeling his ears burn. He wasn't sulking, he just...

Or, maybe father was right? He clenched his fists. Once again, he had this feeling - a very reasonless one - that, in the end, no-one cared for him. They kept using him as they pleased and then got rid of him when he lost his usefulness.

Completely reasonless.

And, by the way, how come father could see through him like this?

No, it was only his fault. He really didn't want to go through it again - this what had taken place his last evening in Ungan-ji, only two days ago although it seemed very long - but it already felt as if the best part of day had been past him. His good mood vanished amazingly easily. He really couldn't usurp the right to Bontenmaru and his presence - the very idea was outrageous - yet, he was under the impression that it was what he had been doing for some time now. Subconsciously, he wanted to be someone important to the boy - and if this was still fine, then that... possessiveness he showed along definitely deserved to be condemned.

Now Kagetsuna could clearly see his motives. He had been imagining that, by being with him, he had wanted to reassure Bontenmaru and support him - and now he realized that from the very first he had been guided by his selfishness. How could you serve anyone of egoism?

"Kagetsuna? I'm talking to you," Kagenaga's voice rouse him from thoughts. "Son, what's happening with you?"

He looked at his father, squinting, and then averted his eyes.

That moment - like earlier, too - it seemed only right thing to keep away from Bontenmaru.

And the very thought of it felt unbearably harsh.

He didn't know why he couldn't reach a compromise. Maybe he simply didn't want to.

He got up, thanking for the meal and gathering the vessels. "I'll clean up and go to Chestnut..." he started, but was interrupted by the shod hooves on the stone.

They have looked in the direction of the shrine where two horses were coming from. Kagenaga stood up, only to be followed by Bontenmaru. Kagetsuna put the vessels inside and came back to greet the guests. There were only two of them, yet they were making a big impression, as well as their mounts: fine stallions from the lord's stables. First rider was tall, his face stern, and the man could be Kagenaga's age, maybe slightly younger. His figure was dignified, and his eyes were looking with pride. His hair was tied, two swords at his waist, and the family crest of the Date on his clothing. He came to a halt in the edge of the yard and alighted, followed by his companion, apparently a samurai of a lower status.

"Endō-san, welcome to my humble house," Kagenaga bowed to the man, who did the same.

"Katakura-san, it's been a long time since we last met," he recited the customary greeting and came closer, beckoned by Kagenaga. Then, however, he noticed the boy in his shadow and stopped dead in his track. "What is the meaning of this?" he called out, astonishment mixing with agitation in his voice. "Bontenmaru-sama, what are you doing in this place?"

"Endō-san, would you like to take a seat? You will learn about everything in no time," Kagenaga encouraged him, undeterred by such a sudden display of his guest. "The day is fine, so I suggest that we stay out," he added.

Endō Motonobu seemed to consider the proposal, then he nodded and sat down on the wooden panel, taking the swords off and putting down alongside. The other samurai stood discreetly behind.

"Kagetsuna, bring water," Kagenaga instructed, also sitting down, "unless our guests prefer something stiff...?"

Endō-dono raised his hand to refuse. "Not this time of day, Katakura-san," he spoke rather formally, but it seemed to Kagetsuna the man was slowly relaxing.

He drew the drinking water and snatched three mugs from the kitchen. He poured the guests and father, and then sat down in the back.

"Upon reading your message, in which you claimed you had important information concerning Bontenmaru-sama, I could expect anything but the news he himself was staying in your place," Endō-dono declared with a mixture of surprise and reproach.

Really, father had left such message? Kagetsuna felt like shaking his head in disbelief.

"Until yesterday I had no idea myself," Kagenaga replied. "However, the situation changed."

"What do you mean?"

"My son here, Kagetsuna - I believe you met in Yonezawa-jō, he was once Terumune-sama's page - was staying in Ungan-ji the same time Bontenmaru did. Yesterday the monks were informed about the plague in the area. Kagetsuna, without a second thought, took the boy and came here. Today he was going to ride to Yonezawa." Kagetsuna wasn't sure whether there was praise or reprimand in father's voice. He kept silent.

Endō Motonobu turned in his direction and gave him a watchful gaze, then knitted his brows. "Yesterday?" he repeated. "You rode all the way from Ungan-ji, lad?"

"We travelled the whole day," Bontenmaru, who had been silent so far, threw in happily.

Endō-dono shifted his eyes to the little one and then looked at Kagetsuna again. The youth lowered his head. "Forgive me, Endō-dono. I acted illicitly, taking Bontenmaru-sama on such a long journey without any arrangements. I am ready to pay the penalty for such..."

"You did a right thing," the man interrupted him in a firm tone.

Kagetsuna blinked and then looked at the samurai, bewildered.

"Although Amida Buddha must have watched over you indeed," Endō-dono added. "Fortunately, the roads are safe now. Andō Chikasue takes care of his region, just like the Date and the Mogami do here, in the south. But I see you haven't undergone a genpuku yet," he turned to Kagetsuna again. "I guess you were studying under the guidance of Master Kosai?"

"I sent him there to find his own way," Kagenaga threw in. "I didn't expect he would come back home after a month. Well, at least he knows _this_ way," he added ironically, and Kagetsuna blushed.

"What do you intend to do now, lad?" Endō-dono asked straight. "For now, you can't go to Ungan-ji, although it's a fine place, perfect for a spiritual growth."

Kagetsuna was silent. At this point, he didn't know at all what he should do. Bontenmaru would return to Yonezawa, at least for now. For Kagetsuna it was all the same what he would busy himself with. "I shall rely upon my honourable father's will," he finally said, his head still down.

"Truly praiseworthy," the samurai claimed, "but at this age you should already look for a man's job."

"I wish to serve the Date," Kagetsuna spoke these words like a pat answer and only he knew what was behind his impassive tone, although even he wasn't aware of everything yet.

Endō-dono nodded with conviction. "Terumune-sama will welcome you in Yonezawa-jō when the time arrives. Once you decide you are ready, arrive in the castle with your father's blessing."

"Kagetsuna is coming with us to Yonezawa," Bontenmaru put in, and this time his voice was somewhat alarmed.

"Bontenmaru-sama?"

"Because we were going to go together," the boy added, as if he was stating the obvious. "Right?"

Kagetsuna was unable to answer. Bontenmaru was looking at him, eyes wide open, and there was something about this look, some frankness, that made Kagetsuna avert his eyes. He had promised himself he would behave reasonably. Again and again, he had been repeating how he should act so that everyone would benefit from this. It didn't help. Every day - oh, even every moment - more and more was he succumbing to the charm of that boy, who was to become daimyo one day. It turned upside down the order of all things and the whole, so far simple, world of Katakura Kagetsuna. Something about it was not right, but he couldn't quite grasp it. But there was one thing he was sure of: until he understood what he should really do, he wouldn't find peace.

"Endō-san, what are your plans?" Kagenaga diverted attention from his son, for which Kagetsuna was grateful to him.

"I think we shouldn't delay going to Yonezawa."

Kagetsuna's fingers clenched on the fabric again.

"If I may suggest something... The boy has a tiresome travel past him. It would be prudent to give him one day of rest. Even in palanquin he won't be very comfortable, taking into consideration he spent the whole day on horseback. There is no hurry. In any case you will be back in Yonezawa much earlier than you have assumed..."

"You're talking sense, Katakura-san," the samurai agreed.

"You won't find entertainment in Kaneyama to pass your time on, but, if you climb up the hill of Yakushi, you may appreciate the splendid view over the most beautiful peaks of the Southern Ōu. Since you are going to be spared a mountain trip anyway, you may use the opportunity to contemplate them now."

"Katakura-san, you do know how to promote your homeland..."

"Actually, I come from Yonezawa, but I do find Kaneyama an exceptional place..."

Kagetsuna was observing the two men hold almost carefree conversation and couldn't not be amazed - especially at his father. In the presence of a samurai of the court in Yonezawa, Kagenaga seemed a different person than the one Kagetsuna knew. It could be that he unconsciously fell into the role he had once used to play while serving the Date - along with the very same Endō Motonobu. Kagetsuna wondered if that time, too, they had talked like this, juggled with words with equal ease and threw comments bereft of deeper meaning.

"What would you say if I visit you in the inn, Endō-san? By day, I have my duties in the shrine, but I could come by evening. I'd gladly hear from you about Yonezawa and Terumune-sama," Kagenaga suggested casually. "I'd escort Bontenmaru."

Kagetsuna and Bontenmaru exchanged glances. At least Kagetsuna felt his heart leapt.

"Be my guest, Katakura-san," Endō-dono replied as courteously. "Am I correct saying that Bontenmaru-sama prefers to spend the day... here?"

"Katakura-dono promised to show me the shrine," the boy informed politely, straightening up and resting his hands on the lap. He appeared like a little prince - or a child that was up to some mischief and knew that he had to give an impression of innocence.

"Then..." The samurai stood up, only to be followed by Kagenaga. "I will see you by evening," he said formally. He bowed at parting and mounted his horse to ride away to the village along with his faithful companion.

"I don't like to travel in palanquin," Bontenmaru declared, his brows knitted, after the guests had left.

"You will be more comfortable," Kagetsuna replied automatically.

"I liked it on horseback yesterday," the boy stuck to his point of view.

"Only you barely can walk today," the youth pointed out, more at guess than in relation to reality.

"Rather you," the boy's voice rang with indignation. He turned to Kagenaga, who was rubbing his jaw. "Those herbs helped a lot," he acclaimed.

"It's a secret handed down from generation to generation among the soldiers of the Date," Kagenaga explained, a flicker in his eyes. It seemed that his good mood, caused by the meeting with Endō Motonobu, was to continue.

Bontenmaru regarded him with even greater respect. "Can you find them near Yonezawa?" he asked curiously.

"You think you can make use of them? Now?"

"No-o... But some day I will ride a lot."

"Hmm, you have a point there," Kagenaga agreed. "Then, what would say if one day I pay you a visit in Yonezawa and show where they grow?"

Bontenmaru beamed. "I'll be waiting," he said happily yet seriously.

Kagetsuna felt like smiling. For a moment, he was under the impression that all his problems would end if only he could completely and entirely focus on the boy. He looked away. There was no use dreaming of impossible. Bontenmaru was Bontenmaru, and he would always remain Katakura Kagetsuna.

"So, how about going to the shrine now?" Kagenaga proposed, glancing at Kagetsuna at the same time.

"All right."

"Then wait a moment, I'll change, and we'll go. In the meantime, you may pour the cat some milk."

"Milk?"

"Don't you know that cats drink milk? Really, are there no kittens in Yonezawa-jō?"

"I don't recall. But my mother has a canary."

"Well, canaries make a perfect cat food, too, so I think I understand everything now. Come, I'll show you where you can find milk..."

Kagetsuna had to turn away to smother his laugh. Despite the pang in his chest, he couldn't resist Bontenmaru's disarming childishness and anything that made it up. He never could.

"Kagetsuna, I have some work for you as well, so that you won't be bored," Kagenaga threw from the door. "Chop some woods and repair the roof of the shed, for it started to leak some time ago. Check out what has loosened and replace it. Then, it would be good if you caught some fish and prepared the lunch."

"Understood, father. There should be plenty of trout."

"We'll see at the meal, then," Kagenaga decided and disappeared inside the house along with Bontenmaru.

When on the job, time was flying. Unfortunately, the work wasn't that complex so that it could occupy also his mind. However, it seemed to him that father wasn't the only one whose mood had got improved by the visit of Endō Motonobu. The more Kagetsuna was thinking about it, the more was he realizing there was nothing to... sulk about. Quite the contrary. Endō-dono had taken him seriously, and Kagetsuna was under the impression he had managed to gain respect of that trusted aide of Lord Terumune. Despite some formality, marking his conduct especially at the beginning, Endō-dono had turned out to be a man capable of quick thinking and seeing the crux. His talk with Kagenaga and Kagetsuna had been brief and matter-of-fact. No wonder he had been held in high esteem already years ago, when Kagetsuna had been serving in Yonezawa-jō. He kept both feet on the ground and kept back those who rushed ahead too enthusiastically. He was one of the direct advisers of daimyo. He was modest and unpretentious. He was one of those samurai whom Kagetsuna held up as models.

Designated for Bontenmaru's guardian, if only temporary, Endō-dono had had every right to scold or even punish Kagetsuna for what the latter had done. However, not only had he praised him, but had also expressed his sympathy for Kagetsuna's future plans. Even if Kagetsuna suspected that, in any case, he would suffer the consequences of his actions, he found solace in the fact he wasn't condemned by all people. 'You did a right thing,' Endō-dono had said, and, even though Kagetsuna had been consoling himself with similar words, it was quite a different thing to hear them spoken aloud by another person.

His future plans... He raised his head and looked south, in direction of far Yonezawa, before he resumed repairing the roof. He really wanted to go there - but as who? Until father set the date of his genpuku, there was nothing for him to do in the court. He wanted to become a samurai and serve the daimyo as one. At the moment, it was out of question, and the retinue was about to leave for Yonezawa-jō as soon as tomorrow. Kagetsuna wasn't stupid; he realized that both father and Endō-dono had left to him the decision whether he wanted to be a part of it or not. Bontenmaru, on his part, didn't leave him any choice...

_Katakura Kagetsuna, you're boring,_ he said himself. _You have the chance of a lifetime, yet you're... sulking._ Father was right, as always, he realized for the umpteenth time. He really didn't want to live his life mindlessly; recently, however, he constantly came to the conclusion he was thinking too much to be comfortable with it. Annoyed, he almost hit his finger with the hammer. The problem was he didn't know what would help him put his thoughts in order again.

Woods he chopped would be enough for a week; prepared woodpile disappeared in a flash. Surprisingly, it helped to vent his anger and frustration caused by the feeling of his own incompetence. What now? Oh yes, the trout. As expected, the stream seethed with them; in fact, he could catch them with his bare hands, but it was quicker to use the net. After all, he had yet to prepare the meal.

Sun had already passed the highest point when delicious smell of roasted fish lured Kagenaga and Bontenmaru back home - or that was what Kagetsuna preferred to think. Kagenaga changed his ceremonial garment to everyday clothing and set about laying out the vessels and then serving the rice out. When stirring the vegetable stew, Kagetsuna wondered about the simplicity of their life in Kaneyama. They didn't have single servant - and they had never needed any. Kisshō, too, kept house by herself. It had taught Kagetsuna self-reliance, and he was of opinion it hadn't do him harm. Maybe one day he would need to cook for his lord in a camp, somewhere in the forest...

"Next month our new miko** should arrive," Kagenaga informed.

"It's good news," Kagetsuna agreed, at the same time trying if the meal wasn't ready yet.

The previous miko had died in the spring. She had been already advanced in age, having spent all her life in that shrine, serving the late priest. Kagenaga had waited for her successor, but in the summer time had to manage by himself - and he managed perfectly. Still, Kagetsuna was of the opinion that the presence of a miko raised the prestige of the shrine. Well, that time many shrines were left neglected, so it wasn't such a gross offence if there was only the kannushi*** tending to it. People in Kaneyama were lucky their shrine had been operating for years. A couple of months without a miko were no tragedy; nevertheless, the arriving of a new one was great news indeed.

Bontenmaru returned from the back-room, where he had been washing his hands, and took the place showed by Kagenaga. Kagetsuna removed the stew from the stove and put it to the vessel, so that they could ladle at will. The fish was ready on the platter, the turnip salad as well, and the rice in the bowls. Tea had already infused. He sat down, and they could start the meal.

"Itadakimasu!"

He hadn't noticed how hungry he had been. Judging from Bontenmaru, who was tucking in eagerly, the boy, too, must have worked up an appetite during whatever he had been doing in the shrine. Kagetsuna was observing him over the bowl. Here, in father's cottage, Bontenmaru was finally acting and seemed like a completely normal five-year-old boy. Despite the great reverence for his noble birth, Kagetsuna thought it was... better this way. It proved that, deep down, behind all that court etiquette and imposed - as well as accepted - customs, the boy had been a living person. In Ungan-ji, as they had been spending more and more time together, from behind the lovely façade the inside had kept showing through, confirming Kagetsuna in the conviction that Bontenmaru wasn't a puppet. However, only now, surrounded by nature and equally natural people, the boy managed to completely shed the shell and became as natural as they were. Probably unconsciously.

How hard it would be for him to return to the stiff world of Yonezawa.

"Delicious meal, son."

Kagetsuna regarded Kagenaga, puzzled. Father didn't use to praise his son so directly, neither Kagetsuna considered today's meal any better than usually prepared, so why father decided to pay him a compliment right now?

"Very tasty," Bontenmaru agreed, asking the second helping, and then mused over the bowl. "Kagetsuna is very capable, isn't he?" he turned to Kagenaga. "He can cook and ride a horse, and he studied the Doctrine..." he recited. "And he knows how to crop the fields!"

Kagetsuna gazed at his father, his eyes getting wider. Father couldn't have...

"All true," Kagenaga replied, giving his son a serious look. "I think he will also become a fine swordsman."

Kagetsuna poured himself tea and drank the whole cup in one gulp, not daring to look at Bontenmaru. Really, father had overdone it, pointing his qualities up in such explicit manner. Especially that they weren't anything special. For some reason, it had sounded almost... obscene.

Bontenmaru only beamed, as if he was very content with something.

"And... what were you doing in the shrine?" Kagetsuna asked in a faint voice, determined to draw attention from himself.

"We were arranging the candles and flowers," Bontenmaru answered. "Katakura-dono prayed for two women who came from the village and asked for it. I hung an ema, too," he added cheerfully.

"An ema? And what might have you written on it, Bontenmaru-sama?"

"A wish that no-one would die of the plague," the boy replied in a firm tone.

Kagetsuna lowered his head, feeling the shiver run down his spine. It was strange. They were so far from Ungan-ji, yet his reaction, whenever the plague was mentioned, was more and more violent. He really kept managing to forget about it, so perhaps that was why the shock was so big each time he was reminded it. Even though everything should be all right...

"What are you going to do after the meal?" Kagenaga asked, as if nothing had disturbed the pleasant ambiance.

Kagetsuna looked through the window. "If Bontenmaru-sama has nothing against it, we may go for a walk and climb Taihei or Ryūba," he decided after a moment. "Or, at least, try."

"I have never climbed a mountain!"

"Do you think you can do it? Aren't you too tired?" Kagenaga had doubts about it. The boy vigorously shook his head, making his long hair flutter around his face. "All right, but you have to be back by the Hour of the Rooster****," Kagenaga made a condition. "Before dark, we will go to the village."

Bontenmaru didn't say any more, only set about emptying his bowl. He finished his meal in no time and thanked. Kagetsuna followed him and then, once everyone ate, he cleared the table. For a moment, he examined the boy. "I think there's no need for you to change," he said finally. "There's a path onto the top, so we won't have to break through the thicket... But you had better tied your hair."

"Again?"

"You don't have to if you don't want to. But it would be convenient that way since it use to get to your eyes. And, while climbing the mountains, you need to see properly," Kagetsuna instructed in a serious tone.

Bontenmaru thought it over and then smiled widely. "Yesterday Katakura-dono wondered why I had a red ribbon in hair," he revealed happily.

"Then, today we will have your hair tied with a proper strap. Like any samurai do," Kagetsuna decided and reached for the comb, suppressing a smile.

Soon they were treading the path leading up the forest-covered slope. "It starts right behind your house," Bontenmaru noticed. "Was it you who have made it?"

"Oh, no. I believe people who lived here before liked to have a top view of the area. My father seems to climb the hill, too... In the summer we used to do it together a few times."

"What is he doing there?"

"Probably he talks with the spirit of the mountain and seeks its favour."

Bontenmaru goggled and then looked around, quite thrilled. "And the spirit of the mountain isn't angry that people disturbs his peace?" he asked seriously.

"Well, people and spirits exist together," Kagetsuna explained, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "If we didn't visit each other, it would be as if we were living apart."

Bontenmaru mused. The tail on the top of his head jumped funnily with his every step. "Sometimes, I feel like not visiting anyone," he confessed finally. "Or I don't want anyone to visit me. It seems to me they only want something from me because I will become a daimyo one day. What if the spirit of mountain feels the same way?"

Kagetsuna regarded him, frowning, and then looked ahead again. "My father feels connected to the spirits," he said gently. "I think he treats them like friends."

"Oh! I didn't mean to insult him!"

"I know you didn't. I suppose many of those you meet with are honest. They visit you because it makes them happy. Of course, there will always be those who would like to take advantage of your favours, but I believe you will learn how to tell them apart and how to treat them."

"You think so?" A gratitude was mixing with begging in the boy's gaze.

"I'm sure of this. You will learn to look not only with your eyes. Well, I think you're learning already," Kagetsuna added with a smile.

"You think so?" the boy repeated, now excited.

"I think so. But you had better not cackle, Bontenmaru-sama. You may lure a fox here..."

"A fox? Inari Ōkami*****, perhaps?" Bontenmaru seemed very intrigued with such possibility.

"Do you think the goddess has nothing better to do than staying in the forest in the mountain village?"

"The place doesn't matter for a spirit," Bontenmaru replied, seemingly pleased with himself.

"Well, right..."

Sun was rolling slowly over the sky, its light shone through the tree tops and cast golden reflexes onto the undergrowth that, luckily for the wanderers, wasn't too exuberant. From time to time, they had to pass through the covert, but eventually managed to get onto the top without special problems. Kagetsuna led Bontenmaru to the place that made it possible to have a wider view onto the area, so that the boy wouldn't feel disappointed. The hill was covered with dense forest, so it didn't prove the best viewpoint, but Bontenmaru was impressed anyway.

"I have never been so high before," he stated, delighted. "Even our castle isn't so high."

"If you like it, then you should climb even higher mountains one day," Kagetsuna suggested.

The boy nodded eagerly. "I'll climb the mountains that give even better view," he added, gazing at the distant peaks of the Ōu range.

They spent some time one the top before they headed back. The bilberries were exceptionally tasty, and the moss was properly soft. The spirit of the mountain didn't show any hostility towards them. Kagetsuna decided he was supposedly as pleased with that walk as Bontenmaru.

He glanced at the boy and burst out laughing at the sight of the purple spots all over around his mouth. "You look untidy, Bontenmaru-sama," he spoke.

"Which means?"

"Like a child who liked the bilberries."

"Because I liked," the boy admitted, grinning from ear to ear, and then wiped his mouth with a sleeve, which didn't improve a situation much.

As they were walking down, Bontenmaru started to show fatigue. Still, Kagetsuna was impressed by the endurance of this little boy, who had had strength for such walk after the hard travel. His tiny legs deserved some relief, so he spent the rest of the stroll on Kagetsuna's back, wrapping his hands around the youth's neck and pressing himself to his scruff. The setting sun cast its final light onto the roof when they reached home.

Kagenaga needed only one look to assess the situation. "Go to bed. Tomorrow a journey awaits the boy again," he decided. "I'm going to tell Endō-san he was too tired to take him to the inn."

Kagetsuna nodded, feeling light at heart. This option suited him better... Kagenaga left to the village that lay down, wrapped in the evening shadow, and Kagetsuna helped the sleepy boy to change. He himself was tired, too, and his body doubly reminded him of the strain from the previous day. Father must have been right, again...

"May I have an apple?" a quiet voice came from Bontenmaru's bedding.

Kagetsuna turned to him, surprised. "I thought you wanted to sleep?"

"But I'd like an apple before," the boy stated, a flicker in his eye.

"You're a feeder, aren't you, Bontenmaru-sama?" Kagetsuna said and brought two apples from the pantry. "But, once you've eaten, go to sleep. Good night."

Bontenmaru nodded, and Kagetsuna went to have a wash. The day had started rather turbulently, but the longer it lasted, the greater peace it had been bringing along. Now, in the evening, Kagetsuna felt... good. Even the thought of Bontenmaru's leaving tomorrow wasn't so unbearable any more. The boy was to return home.

He slid under the cover, hoping for a refreshing sleep. Through the window, he could see the dark eastern skies. Tonight was to be moonless.

"Kagetsuna," the quiet voice almost scared him. He turned his head. Bontenmaru's eyes were glittering in the dark. "You will go with me to Yonezawa-jō, won't you?"

All his promises and noble decisions dispersed as if they had never been there - yet Kagetsuna was under the impression he hadn't been so... happy in a long time. And, suddenly, he was struck by the realization he had made the future daimyo stoop to begging for too long. He couldn't answer in any other way - and he knew with his whole there was no other answer.

"I will go."

* * *

* Hour of the Snake - period of time between 9 a.m. and 11 a.m.

** miko - a shrine maiden who serves at Shinto shrines

*** kannushi - the person responsible for the maintenance of a Shinto shrine as well as for holding religious ceremonies there

**** Hour of the Rooster - period of time between 5 p.m. and 7 p.m.

***** Inari Ōkami - Japanese deity of fertility, rice, agriculture, foxes, industry and worldly success; because of close association with foxes, Inari is often believed to be a fox

_(wikipedia)_


	9. Chapter 9

**~9~**  
**Storm**

* * *

The travel to Yonezawa proceeded without any special adventures. Endō Motonobu had planned the route containing two stopovers: in Obanazawa and Yamagata. To tell the truth, Kagetsuna racked his brains as to how they had managed to avoid the visit in the Mogami's court and stay at the inn. Apparently, Endō-dono had received strict orders from Lord Terumune; maybe it was the reason why he hadn't sent out to Yonezawa anyone with a message about the sudden change in the schedule either. As for the Mogami, they must have been invited to Bontenmaru's birthday celebration anyway; otherwise, they would never forgive the fact that the boy - after all, the one of their blood - hadn't paid them a visit once he had found himself in Yamagata. It was a sure thing that Lord Yoshimori and Lord Yoshiaki - Lady Yoshihime's father and brother - attached a great importance to the alliance with the Date, and thus such actions, if not justified, would be an insult to their honour. It was quite another thing if the Mogami really didn't know about Bontenmaru's staying in Yamagata; they had their spies everywhere, so why not in the inn? The passing of such group as theirs couldn't remain unnoticed.

They travelled at a leisurely pace. Bontenmaru had been put in a palanquin, which he wasn't very pleased with, but endured it with dignity of a future ruler. Kagetsuna was staying in the back, but always in the boy's sight - and was amazed to see how much Bontenmaru's behaviour differed when he was surrounded by the courtiers. During the last month Kagetsuna had grown accustomed to his more natural version: a boy - and now he was facing a heir to the noble family at its best. The boy spoke only when he had absolutely no choice, and, although he treated his companions with courtesy, it was a clemency of a future lord. Endō-dono and his people weren't talkative either, so it turned out to be a rather silent journey. Kagetsuna could pretty well guess what torture it was for Bontenmaru. Once again he remembered Master Kosai's words about the boy's being lonely even when surrounded by his own people; now he had a chance to see it with his own eyes. He didn't dare to talk to him, though - but even if Bontenmaru was disappointed, he didn't show it.

The third day - the seventh day of a week - they arrived in Yonezawa. Kagetsuna hadn't expected that the castle would make on him even greater impression than when he had seen it for the first time, sever years ago, yet it did. They were approaching it slowly, and it was appearing before them more and more glorious. It wasn't as expanded as the Mogami's residence, but its keep soared higher, shooting up with many floors into the sky. The day was bright, and the white walls were reflecting the sunlight, forcing the viewers to squint.

Looking at the curvy roofs and running his eyes through the numerous adornments, Kagetsuna had a strange feeling as if he was coming home again.

He sensed, however, that he shouldn't count on warm welcome anywhere but Kaneyama.

He got off the horse, trying not to stand out, while Endō-dono helped Bontenmaru out of the palanquin. The servants took to the courtyard first, followed soon by the retainers and ladies. Animated voices and excited whispers came from every quarter. Like at the court, Kagetsuna concluded. Endō Motonobu led the boy inside, and Kagetsuna, not really knowing what he should do, followed him, having left Chestnut to the stable-boy. Along with the curious crowd, he walked into the main hall the very moment Lady Yoshihime entered from the direction of her wing.

At the sight of unexpected guests, she gave a cry of astonishment. "Bontenmaru? What is the meaning of this, Endō-san!" she turned to the man. "You should be back no sooner than next week!"

It couldn't possibly sound well in the ears of the boy, who had already brightened upon seeing his mother. Now his face shut instantly, as if he had just been reprimanded. Lady Yoshihime didn't even come up to him. Kagetsuna moved little closer. Endō-dono looked around, in somewhat critical manner regarding the courtiers gathered, and then shifted his eyes back to the princess.

"Yoshihime-sama, forgive my impudence, but we need to speak in private. The matter is grave," he emphasized, and his tone had a _'not for wrong ears'_ to it.

Apparently, Yoshihime understood what he meant. She gathered the tails of her garment with a pattern of peach flower, took Bontenmaru's hand and headed for her chambers. Endō-dono waved at Kagetsuna to follow them, which aroused even more intrigued whispers. Kagetsuna already felt like someone condemned, and it was hard for him to hold his head high. As far as he could recollect, he hadn't been so sensitive to the atmosphere of Yonezawa-jō in the old days.

Lady Yoshihime led them to the room in the wing she occupied and sent the servants off with a firm gesture. Once they took their place - Kagetsuna discreetly behind Endō-dono's back, head down - she demanded explanations.

"The plague broke out in the north," the samurai said outright. "Bontenmaru-sama could not stay in Ungan-ji. Katakura Kagetsuna here displayed great courage, taking Bontenmaru-sama from the unsafe area and providing him with protection during the travel."

For a moment, there was a silence. And then...

"I didn't expect we would meet so soon, Katakura," the woman's voice remained perfectly neutral, yet the overall statement felt like a lash.

Kagetsuna looked up in the dark eyes of Yoshihime. "Forgive me, my lady..." he began, and then his voice trailed off because he didn't really know what he was apologizing for.

"Would you like to tell me what's happened? You were there, so you know it best," she commanded.

Kagetsuna swallowed, for suddenly he realized he was afraid of her. He didn't feel good with this feeling, but he couldn't quite escape from it. He clenched his fists. "At the beginning of the week the temple was visited by a villager who told that people had started to fall ill. He feared the deadly plague. I took Bontenmaru-sama and left for–"

"You took? What do you mean?" The agitation swelling in Yoshihime's voice didn't bode well.

"My horse is of gentle nature, Yoshihime-sama. It can be trusted–"

"Are you telling me you put my son, a five-year-old child, on the horseback and set out on a journey through the mountains?" Yoshihime's eyes narrowed.

"My lady, there was no other way–"

"Who accompanied you?" was the next question.

Kagetsuna was unable to withstand her gaze. He clenched his fists tighter, feeling the nails dug into. "No-one, Yoshihime-sama. There was no time to hire anyone..."

The woman slowly rose; the swish of her robe made Kagetsuna think of a moving snake. He clenched his eyelids. He was terrified, first and foremost by the thought she was absolutely right.

"Katakura," she said quietly, which aroused even more fear in him. "How dared you treat my son, the heir to the Date family, like that? How dared you expose him to such danger and such conditions? You provided him with protection? And what protection could be provided by such kid? You aren't even a samurai! You are a son of samurai who quit from my Lord's service!"

"Yoshihime-sama–" Endō-dono interfered, but his words were drowned out by a thin voice, "Mother...!" Bontenmaru showed a great courage, interrupting her.

But Yoshihime had no intention to end yet. "Silence," she called without as much as looking at her son, which shocked Kagetsuna much more than her earlier insult to his father and made him raise his head.

Bontenmaru looked as if she had hit him. He went pale, and his eyes grew wide. Then he fixed his gaze on his lap. Yoshihime was still glaring at Kagetsuna.

"You might have been assaulted by bandits! My Lord's enemies might have kidnapped his successor! Not to mention the beasts! You might have... You might have fallen down the precipice! But you didn't even bother to think of any of this and have simply taken my son into mountain wild, without as much as a sword!"

Her words kept falling on Kagetsuna's back, and he accepted every one of them, for he knew they were all true - apart from that about the precipice, perhaps. After all, he had many times repeated them himself, aware of their full meaning. It was not those words that were so hard to bear, but the hatred emanating from the lady of Yonezawa-jō.

Yoshihime turned away; her robe rustled again. "You will be punished. I will order to throw you into dungeon..."

"My lady," Endō Motonobu apparently decided it was high time to intervene. "You have to power over Katakura Kagetsuna. Only Terumune-sama can punish him. If he sees fit to do so, which I personally doubt... I dare say Katakura-kun did a right thing, taking Bontenmaru-sama from the plague-stricken area."

Kagetsuna cast a glance at Yoshihime, who sat down again and looked at the man as if she wanted to dress him down for admonishing her. She didn't say anything, though, since she knew he was right at least in the former: she didn't have any authority over her husband's retainers and other subjects. However, she surely wasn't going to agree with the latter; yet, she refrained herself from confrontation. Again, she seemed completely composed, and Kagetsuna wondered if her previous display hadn't been merely an act. Especially that she didn't appear concerned about her son's welfare at all - and this was what any mother should think of in the first place, not conduct of any random... servant.

Kagetsuna tried to control the crazy racing of his heart, observing Yoshihime and Endō glaring at each other.

"As you are well aware, my Lord left Yonezawa and will be back in few days," the woman spoke finally, and there was a tone of truce to her words. Then, she looked at Kagetsuna, and her eyes were icy. "You will stay in the servant's quarters, and don't you dare leave them," she declared menacingly. Her gaze returned to the samurai. "What about a plague?"

"My lady. They talked about smallpox."

Yoshihime gave her son a look as if she had just seen a forest spirit or similar freak. Bontenmaru wasn't aware of this, for he kept his head down, clenching his tiny hands on the fabric of his clothing.

"But my son was studying in the temple," Yoshihime said. "He couldn't have met with the commoners." Kagetsuna felt his heart leapt again. "How come he could have fallen ill?" She looked at Kagetsuna again, although her expression clearly indicated she would rather not see him. "Am I wrong?"

Kagetsuna swallowed. Now he had to muster all his courage and confess the truth... Even if it was to cost him dear: not merely being thrown into dungeon.

"Yoshihime-sama, I–"

"Kosai-sensei let me see the children from the village."

In a silence that fell one could hear a pin drop. Kagetsuna's eyes grew wider. Endō-dono took a deep breath. Yoshihime looked at his son as if he wasn't a forest freak any more, but a real demon. And then she jumped to her feet, her long hair fluttering, and called a servant.

"Bring Kabe-sensei here, immediately!" she instructed when a maid appeared in the doorway.

"But Kabe-sensei left for Osaka, my lady," the servant pointed out, fear rang in her voice.

Yoshihime knitted her brows. "Then send a man to Yamagata and bring the doctor from my father's court. He is to be here as soon as possible," she ordered.

"Yes, my lady," the maid answered apprehensively and slid the door shut.

Yoshihime looked at Bontenmaru again, this time very closely. Kagetsuna wondered whether the boy's frank statement resulted from his inner honesty, that had made him run the risk of his beloved mother's anger... or was there already, if only stirring, ability or will to oppose her.

Yoshihime finished her examination and squinted. "You don't look sick," she decided with painful indifference and sat down again, adjusting the folds of her robe. "But to think that Master Kosai behaved so irresponsibly... I didn't expect it of him," she added, obviously displeased. "I must have misjudged him."

Endō Motonobu kept silent, and Kagetsuna didn't dare to take a deeper breath. He wasn't able to admit his own part in that matter, not before Yoshihime - and he despised himself for this. Maybe later... Maybe some day... Maybe before Terumune-sama...

Yoshihime seemed completely calm now. Kagetsuna knew her temperament well: she used to explode quickly, but as quickly she used to regain her composure. Much worse than her anger was invisible to the eye: her virulent hatred could last long, even if she didn't show it. Now her beautiful face evened out, and her hands rested in her lap. She turned to Bontenmaru again.

"Until the doctor examines you, keep away from Jikumaru," she said in a tone she might as well comment the weather in.

Kagetsuna clenched his teeth, Endō-dono tried to muffle a gasped of indignation - but all this couldn't compare with Bontenmaru's reaction. The boy went pale as a ghost and gave his mother a look that clearly said those words pained him much more than the earlier ones. Then he averted his eyes and looked ahead, his gaze unseeing.

"Yes, mother," he replied in a voice deprived of all life.

Yoshihime merely nodded, undisturbed by this. She called the servants again and instructed them to take care of the boy. Bontenmaru followed the maid, his lips tightly clasped and his eyes fixed on a point somewhere far ahead of him. In the doorway, he stopped, as if he wanted to turn back, but after a moment of struggle with himself he left the room without as much as a word.

Lady of Yonezawa-jō sent them off soon, so they took their leaves, too.

"Do not take her words to heart," Endō-dono told him once they walked far enough. "She must have been shaken."

"I understand, Endō-dono," Kagetsuna replied, although he didn't really believe Lady Yoshihime to be shaken due to Bontenmaru's condition. And, to tell the truth, he doubted Endō-dono believed it. "I am more perturbed by-"

"Ssh," the samurai silenced him. "We won't talk about it. Terumune-sama will be back soon, and then, I am sure, everything will turn out right. He left for the western border; recently, our relations with Echigo have been more then tense..." Endō rubbed his forehead. "Until he returns, please, comply with Yoshihime-sama's will. It is better not to incur her displeasure," he lowered his voice.

"I shall follow your advice, Endō-dono. Thank you for your protection, Endō-dono," Kagetsuna bowed deeply.

"Katakura-kun, I haven't done anything to thank me for," the samurai replied sincerely. "Be well," he said his goodbye and walked away.

Kagetsuna straightened up, looking after him for a while, and then made his way towards the servants' quarter, that Yoshihime had ordered him to. He hadn't expected to be given an apartment anyway, and here he felt at home. Soon it appeared that many people remembered him, he quickly renewed older acquaintances, and the warmth he was welcomed by some servants with improved his spirits. Right away, he was given a place he could put up in, and started to look for some occupation. He hadn't come to Yonezawa-jō to live off others.

However, in spite of such nice atmosphere, he couldn't drive away Bontenmaru's face upon meeting with his mother. The very recollection made him fill with anger. Yoshihime-sama could vent her fury on him as much as she pleased, but the way she treated her own son was outrageous. Kagetsuna realized he would rather accept being abused twice as much if only she behaved in a normal way around the boy. It was not... right. Kagetsuna couldn't quite grasp what made Yoshihime act like this. One could really have the impression that Bontenmaru was completely indifferent to her. What was worse, the boy apparently realized it. Kagetsuna preferred not to think what Bontenmaru was experiencing now; what he knew, however, was that he wished to be with him, yet wasn't able to.

_Katakura Kagetsuna, surely there is someone in this castle who would take care of him,_ he told himself. Maybe the boy's grandparents. Still, he couldn't quite believe it. He hoped Lord Terumune would end his journey soon...

The man sent to Yamagata returned late in the evening, alone. It appeared that the doctor of the Mogami had left to Osaka along with Kabe-sensei to participate in some convention of medics from the whole empire. Upon learning about this, Lady Yoshihime was said to say that she would forbid the doctors to travel anywhere.

* * *

Lord Terumune came back to Yonezawa-jō on the third day, and it seemed as if the sun had risen. Unlike his wife, he had never been a temperamental person, yet his calmness gave more warmth than sudden bursts of Yoshihime. The court livened up. The servants smiled more, and the samurai talked louder and more openly. Terumune greeted his son happily, apparently assuming that a five-year-old had his rights of a child and was allowed to be hugged, regardless whether he was a heir or not. Lady Yoshihime, although reluctantly, submitted to her husband and let Jikumaru near his brother. Still, it seemed to Kagetsuna that Bontenmaru's heart had been wounded so many times that it was healing even slower each time. Something in Bontenmaru's eyes and absence of spontaneity in his behaviour made Kagetsuna worry about him. Yoshihime kept treating her older son with aloof indifference - and it seemed that Bontenmaru responded as indifferently, not only when being with mother, but when with his brother and father as well. Kagetsuna observed it, more and more coming to the conclusion it was not like it should be.

Lord Terumune immediately took an interest in the plague in the north, although he was quick to decide Bontenmaru was looking so healthy that there was absolutely no reason to worry. His optimism was contagious: during a few hours Kagetsuna was able to convince himself that it was the end of the matter. The daimyo were really something, he arrived at conclusion, if they could affect the feelings of their subject so easily. Much more shocking was, however, the fact that Lord Terumune, in public, gave Kagetsuna credit for his determined actions in such an emergency. He even went as far as to speculate that Kagetsuna's actions might have saved the heir to the Date family from hardship - which, coming from the ruler, meant a lot. Terumune also hinted that it was high time for Kagetsuna to enter the adulthood, for which Kagetsuna, even though he himself had nothing against it, answered - like many times before - that he deferred his father's wishes and awaited his decision. Terumune, pleased to meet his former servant, and in such noble circumstances on top of that, considered requesting Kagenaga to not delay any more and allow Kagetsuna to undergone a genpuku - which would enrich the Date in a trustworthy and loyal samurai. Upon hearing this, Kagenaga was completely silent and didn't dare to even raise his head. It wasn't a common thing to hear such compliments from a daimyo, and Kagetsuna for sure hadn't even dreamt about it when leaving for Yonezawa.

It would be only natural, then, if he spent his time with head in the clouds, planning his rosy future. It would probably have been the case only a month ago. At present, however, something else occupied his mind: the little boy for whom Kagetsuna felt affection which was hard to understand even for himself. He cared deeply about Bontenmaru's good, probably more than his own. He didn't, any more, run from the thought he had found his destiny and didn't hesitate to call things by their right names, if only to himself. He didn't wish for anything else; he aimed to be a direct retainer to the future head of the Date. Like his father had once served Lord Terumune, before the latter had even become a daimyo, Kagetsuna wanted to stay by Bontenmaru's side - or what was the great name the boy was to be given in the future - and support him, and witness him to grow into the head worthy of his ancestors. However, it was the future, and Kagetsuna was too attached to the present to focus on things that were yet to come. What mattered here and now was to provide Bontenmaru with optimal environment to grow and develop, which included many various elements. Kagetsuna had no say in the matter how Lady Yoshihime should act as a mother of the boy - he could only console him and cheer him up - but he could share his ideas about the boy's future education, for example.

It was possible that Lord Terumune's one praise was enough to turn Kagetsuna's head, although he himself was sure he had both feet on the ground, he thought later. In the end, however, it was of no significance for the events that were to come.

Although his status at the court hadn't been decided yet, Kagetsuna felt much more relaxed now, especially in the context of his duties to the future daimyo. On the fourth day - on the eve of Bontenmaru's birthday - he summoned up the courage and humbly requested to speak with Lady Yoshihime. The question wasn't that mere son of samurai dared to bother a wife of the head of clan, but the specific relation the two of them shared. There was enough reason for Kagetsuna to know that Lady Yoshihime felt no affinity for him, especially after their recent confrontation. Besides... it was Lady Yoshihime, a person whom nobody wished to anger. Only after some time Kagetsuna realized he feared that woman or, at least, didn't feel like associating with her at all. Now, however, the situation was exceptional - and, apart from this, if he was to become a samurai soon, he shouldn't show any fear, especially before a woman.

Yoshihime granted him an audience; it was likely that she couldn't ignore the support her husband so openly showed Kagetsuna, and if she acted differently, it would show her disrespect of Terumune. Kagetsuna didn't want to analyse their mutual relation - it would be highly improper - he was under the impression, though, that Yoshihime valued her position as a wife of daimyo and would strive to maintain it at all costs, which required, at least exterior, submission to her spouse. Behind the scenes, she could exercise her own rule in Yonezawa-jō as much as she could, but in open she wasn't allowed to question his will by any means, for it would be an insult to his honour - while an honour of samurai was sacred. Yoshihime must have known perfectly the rules of a court since she was a daughter of daimyo herself. Kagetsuna had every right to suspect that a smile on her face didn't correspond with her inner feelings at all, which didn't give him any comfort; quite the contrary, he had to be on his guard constantly.

Lady Yoshihime received him in the lounge she used to spend her time in, surrounded by ladies-in-waiting and Jikumaru. Bontenmaru, only yesterday allowed to his brother, should be there as well; Kagetsuna hoped for this because, since their arrival in Yonezawa, he had seen the boy from afar only and had no chance of speaking with him. Now he had to focus on the talk with the princess, which wasn't easy at all. Lady Yoshihime daunted him, both by her personality and exterior. There was no other woman who made such an impression on him - not necessarily positive impression. Even Kagetsuna had to admit he had never seen anyone so beautiful - and he did admit it, even if reluctantly, every time he saw her - although he was getting more and more convinced her inside couldn't be described the same way. Today, the lady of Yonezawa-jō was clad in kimono with pattern of chrysanthemum that harmonized with the décor of the room, dominated by the colour of gold. Two ladies-in-waiting accompanied her, as well as Jikumaru, whom Lady Yoshihime didn't seem to part with. The boy was playing at the foot of his mother, who, absorbed in reading, with her neck slightly bent, exemplified the perfect beauty.

Kagetsuna patiently waited for Yoshihime to turn attention to him, every now and then casting furtive glances at her. Jikumaru's attention he drew at once: the boy got away from his entertainment and was observing him, interested. He didn't leave his place, though, without permission of his mother. Or simply his interest in Kagetsuna wasn't strong enough to prompt him to any action. Finally, Lady Yoshihime stopped reading and decided to acknowledge Kagetsuna's being present.

"Katakura Kagetsuna. What brings you before me?" she asked straight away. Apparently, she wasn't a person who talked about the weather if didn't have to.

Kagetsuna swallowed, mustering his courage to look her into face. Her expression was nearly kind. "My lady, forgive me that I disturb you..." he started.

"To the point, Katakura," she interrupted him, which almost shocked him, although, he reflected, shouldn't have.

"Yoshihime-sama. Forgive my boldness. I wish to speak with you about Bontenmaru-sama's future."

He had said it. He had been able to begin, so it should be easier from now on. Lady Yoshihime raised her eyebrows, surprised, although something between displeasure and weariness flashed in her eyes. It vanished quickly, and Kagetsuna felt as if he had been imagining things. Yoshihime waved at him to continue.

"I was honoured to spent a month with Bontenmaru-sama in Ungan-ji, and I am impressed by his determination to fulfil his obligations to the Date family and strive for perfection. Bontenmaru-sama was diligently studying to acquire the knowledge that he would one day need to manage the people. His keen mind amazes me."

Now Yoshihime's expression clearly said, _'Of course. He is my son, after all.'_

"However, I am not sure - forgive my doubts - if Bontenmaru-sama really has to stay away from home to study. I think–"

"Bontenmaru will be studying under Master Kosai's guidance," Yoshihime declared dictatorially, adding, "Such is the will of my Lord."

Kagetsuna felt like asking 'Really?' but, of course, he didn't. He tried in another way, "Yoshihime-sama, I recognize Master Kosai's wisdom–"

"Mother, I have a headache."

They turned their heads to the doorway, where Bontenmaru was standing, hand pressed against his forehead. It took only one look to tell he wasn't feeling well.

"You were probably reading in insufficient light again, wasn't you?" Yoshihime stated, frowning with discontent.

"No, mother. It hurt all night. And throat, too," the boy explained. "And I can't eat," he added, almost in whisper.

"You can't eat? What gibberish is that?"

"Really, mother," the boy said and then blinked, as if his eyes were stinging. He quickly rubbed them.

Yoshihime slowly rose and, still frowning, came closer. Kagetsuna was observing them with growing unease, not knowing what was to come. Still, he didn't expect that what happened next.

All of a sudden, Lady Yoshihime screamed, her voice loud and horrible, then snatched Jikumaru in her arms and run out of the room. Two other ladies, confused, stood up, not knowing how they should behave. Bontenmaru was standing thunderstruck, and even blinking couldn't stop the tears flowing from his eyes. He covered his face with a sleeve, trying to hold back his crying with all his might. Kagetsuna was sitting in his place, stunned, and only some part of his mind received Lady Yoshihime's word, coming from the corridor, "Katakura! You take care of my son!"

He clenched his fists, fixing his eyes on the boy. He didn't need her orders to do so.

Her scream was still ringing in his ears, and his eyes were still seeing the fluttering tails of her exquisite kimono as Yoshihime had turned her back on her older son. That moment Kagetsuna realized he would never be able to respect her.


	10. Chapter 10

**~10~**  
**Carer**

* * *

Bontenmaru kept standing in the doorway, and it seemed he managed to stifle sobbing, which was a feat worthy of the bravest warrior. Kagetsuna came up to the boy and knelt down by him. Bontenmaru took his hand away and sniffed, swallowing the last tears. Now, at close range, Kagetsuna could see what had frightened Lady Yoshihime so much: fine rash over the boy's face, spreading onto the neck. Any other time he wouldn't have attached importance to it; he had once heard that children often developed rash when running a fever, and Bontenmaru had a fever beyond all doubts. But now, first what occurred his mind - and filled him with fear, so strong it hurt - was: a plague.

Smallpox.

The boy's expression clearly showed that Bontenmaru had never felt so miserable before. Kagetsuna put a hand on his shoulder, unable to utter a word, but thinking intensely what he should do now. However, his mind seemed completely blank, and he couldn't grasp any idea to consequently bring it into effect. He was under the impression the world narrowed to him, Bontenmaru and the room...

...in which, as it turned out, remained one of Lady Yoshihime's ladies-in-waiting; the other one must have followed her mistress. Kagetsuna stirred upon hearing the voice of the woman, "Katakura-dono. I think I can see Kabe-sensei in the courtyard... Yes, it is definitely him."

The lady stood by the window, looking simultaneously outside and at Kagetsuna. Her eyes were filled with anxiety, but also some determination. Kagetsuna nodded and took Bontenmaru by the hand. Down the stairs, he rushed outside the building, after a momentary daze catching the sounds, moves and other signs of life again.

Indeed, Kabe-sensei was standing by the main gate and talking with other intellectual looking man, while servants were tending to his luggage. The younger man was ready to continue his journey, and Kagetsuna intuitively recognized the Mogami's court physician. Normally, he would have waited, respectful, until the doctor finished his conversation; now, however, there was no time to lose.

"Kabe-sensei!" he called out and, keeping in mind the villager in Ungan-ji, stopped at some distance from the men.

Kabe Yūdai took his eyes from the companion and looked around, curious who might have disturbed him. Under his gaze - calm and intent - Kagetsuna suddenly felt like a child, especially that the medic created an atmosphere of safety around him. The doctor shifted his eyes to the boy, whom Kagetsuna was still keeping by the hand, and it seemed he had only now recognized Bontenmaru. He frowned and looked back at Kagetsuna, who realized he didn't know what to say. There was so much he wanted to tell the medic, so many things to share with him - information, uncertainty and fear - yet he had no idea how he should begin. He let out a weak cry, full of despair and pleading, "Help us...!"

He must have sounded convincing enough, for Kabe-sensei made a sign to the other medic, who was observing the situation attentively, and came closer. "Who are you, my boy?" he asked. "And what kind of help you need? I can tell something has happened and it involves Bontenmaru-sama...?" he paused questioningly.

Kagetsuna swallowed. It was easier now. The tone the doctor was speaking in was encouraging, and the simplicity of the man's conduct made a positive impression. "My name is Katakura Kagetsuna. Yoshihime-sama entrusted Bontenmaru-sama to me," he replied and was amazed by his own words.

Kabe-sensei raised his eyebrows, surprised, but didn't comment. "What happened here, Kagetsuna-kun?" he asked gently, yet firmly.

"Plague broke out in Ungan-ji. A week ago, I took Bontenmaru-sama thence, and yesterday he still felt all right. But today he started to complain of a headache and... Look yourself."

As he was talking, the medic's face clouded over. The doctor bent over the boy, who - Kagetsuna realized only now - was pressing against him, as if trying to hide in his shadow. It didn't seem, however, to have anything to do with the doctor, whom he knew after all, but with the general situation. As if he didn't feel safe with anyone else but Kagetsuna...

"What plague?" the doctor asked, and something in his voice indicated he already knew the answer.

"Smallpox," Kagetsuna whispered, feeling his mouth was dry.

Kabe-sensei straightened up. His face was serious. "Yukawa-kun. Immediately proceed to Yamagata and persuade your master to prohibit anyone from travelling to Yonezawa," he called out to his companion. "If you meet them on your way, turn them back. We have a threat of a smallpox epidemic here. Well, you know what to do."

"Kabe-sensei, maybe I should stay here..." the younger man offered.

"No, you have to warn others. I will manage by myself," the court medic of Yonezawa added, smiling slightly.

The younger man nodded and rode off without looking back, followed by a servant. The guards closed the gate; even one gesture didn't show they had heard the doctor, although his statement must have aroused many emotions. Kagetsuna, on his part, felt as if some tension was gone. Although the doctor's words indicated that Bontenmaru had indeed got infected, the composure and firmness the man acted with were reassuring. Kagetsuna felt he was not alone - and the feeling of relief was so intense he swayed.

Kabe-sensei beckoned the nearest servant and ordered him to instantly bring Lord Terumune. Even if the servant considered the order too bold, he didn't dare to oppose the court doctor. The daimyo appeared amazingly quickly, although for Kagetsuna even this short moment seemed to extend into infinity. Trying to fill the time of waiting, he focused on the scenery. It was too early for him to feel fear, but - even though Kabe-sensei had managed to calm his nerves little and take over the weigh of responsibility - the anxiety flooded him, bubbling up under the skin, humming like a hive and twisting his insides. His heart was beating fast and hard, and he could feel the rush of blood in his veins. Involuntarily, as if seeking comfort, he squeezed Bontenmaru's hand. The boy was standing next to him, in silence, although he must have been much more upset.

They must have looked strange: a son of daimyo and a son of samurai, in the middle of courtyard, like detached from reality, stuck together and without touch with surrounding world. Kagetsuna saw some servants gave them an astonished look from afar when rushing to their duties. He realized only few moments had passed since he had entered Lady Yoshihime's room; it seemed like ages to him. He shook his head, fixing his eyes on what was in front of them. Sand grains were glistening in the bright, almost dazzling, sunlight of forenoon. In was already September, yet the sun was beating down like in the height of summer. Kagetsuna squinted, looking at Kabe-sensei, who - keeping at some distance - awaited Lord Terumune and then spoke with him. No-one would tell the anxiety out of him; he either didn't feel it at all or could hide it perfectly, and Kagetsuna leaned towards the latter. The situation was too serious for Kabe-sensei to take it lightly, and the instructions he had given to the doctor of Yamagata proved it. Still, looking at him one could be deluded into thinking the only thing that preoccupied his mind was to sufficiently bask in the sun. He even turned his face up and closed his eyes, as if giving to the blissful warm. Kagetsuna sensed it was the last moment the medic could afford to relax, and the doctor must have been aware of it, too. Besides, the youth was sure this relax was pretended and the medic actually was working out... a strategy? It sounded strange, but couldn't possibly be far from the truth.

Kabe-sensei was around sixty years old. However, his face, although wrinkled, and his general manner created the impression of associating with someone much younger. He must have been in a perfect shape, physical too; he had just travelled to Osaka and come back, on horseback on top of that. Kagetsuna felt his hair stand on its end at the thought what would have happened if the doctor hadn't returned right now...

The conversation with Lord Terumune wasn't long, but quite intense, even if they weren't able to hear anything from here. Bontenmaru pressed himself closer to Kagetsuna, as if he wanted to hid behind him, and it remained unclear to the youth whether the daimyo had noticed the boy or not. He turned around, wishing he could turn invisible as well. All of the sudden, he felt he didn't want to see anyone. If he could vanish... make it so that no-one would pay attention to him... He could imagine Bontenmaru felt the same way.

"You are coming with me," the doctor's voice broke him out of a reverie he started to sink in, as well as the hand on his shoulder. He looked at the medic and suddenly realized, irrelevantly, the man was shorter than he. He shook his head to sober himself and nodded. "We are prepared for such situation," the man was talking, as if he knew Kagetsuna wasn't able to carry on a coherent conversation. "We have had enough epidemics in Yonezawa-jō. The most important thing is to isolate the ill ones and prevent the plague from spreading. There is a particular pavilion in the western garden. Terumune-sama had it built on my demand. You will stay there for a while."

Kagetsuna was amazed at how simple it sounded. As if they weren't talking about the disease that killed as effectively as a sword - but, unlike a samurai, it attacked stealthily. The pragmatic tone the doctor spoke in made it easy to believe that everything would be all right... 'Everything _will_ be all right,' Kagetsuna thought, feeling his heart clench again. He followed the doctor, never letting go of Bontenmaru's hand and plucking up his courage to ask about the most essential thing.

"Sensei... Do you know how to cure smallpox?"

The doctor didn't stop and kept walking, only turned his head in his direction. For a moment he was silent. "My boy, no-one can cure it," he spoke finally, and, although so far Kagetsuna had managed to shut the fear out, now he was under the impression a cold wind blew into his face and the blood froze in his veins. "It passes itself. You either survive or pass away along with it."

Kagetsuna lowered his head. Bontenmaru's fingers tightened around his. He looked at the boy, who was staring ahead, and didn't have enough courage to interpret his expression. He wondered if the doctor's words sounded like a verdict also to him - like an extremis no-one could escape from, and all trying was futile.

Kabe-sensei slid the door open, and Kagetsuna realized he had never been here. The building was modest and contained few rooms. The garden surrounding it created the atmosphere of some cosiness and muffled the sounds coming from other parts of the castle. The hollyhocks grew outside the windows, their tall stems abundant in multicoloured flowers. The beauty of this place almost painfully contrasted with the danger they had plunged into.

The doctor gave them a sign to sit down. Bontenmaru kept his cool all the time, as well as dignity - or, at least, he desperately tried to. One could still tell the successor to the family out of the way he moved, but Kagetsuna suspected there was not much strength left to maintain this ceremoniousness. It might have been the last effort he made, and it was a thought Kagetsuna welcomed with both relief and sadness. He couldn't fail to notice that the boy had sat down as close as was possible without losing the last of his pride - and he overcame the sudden impulse to embrace him and pull even closer.

In the meantime, Kabe-sensei was looking through the shelves, mostly filled with scrolls and stapled parchments, and finally took one roll. He sat down facing them. "I'll take care of you," he said straight away, "as well as those who will need my help. However, before we refine our plan of action, you must tell me everything."

Kagetsuna nodded. When he could focus on talking, he felt much better, especially that the doctor asked the detailed questions and presumed the answered when possible. Kagetsuna told all he could remembered about the situation in Ungan-ji and the village, almost echoing the peasant's word that, so strange, were like etched in his memory, and emphasizing the contact Bontenmaru had been in with local children.

He stopped in full flow, his eyes wide, suddenly realizing with blinding clarity that all he had done to escape the disease and protect the boy against it dissolved into thin air. The sensation of disappointment was so bitter he fell into despair. He lowered his head, swallowing the feeling of his own worthlessness. They might as well have stayed there...

_No,_ he ordered himself to think reasonably. Regardless of what had happened, it was a right decision to take Bontenmaru home. Here was his place, especially when in sickness - not somewhere far north, among strangers. Still, the feeling of defeat wouldn't leave, and Kagetsuna knew it would haunt him often...

"Kagetsuna-kun...?" the doctor's voice interrupted his musing, and the youth looked at him with guilt.

"Forgive me, Sensei..." he begin to apologize, but the man silenced him with a gesture.

"Please, continue."

Kagetsuna took a deep breath and resumed his story on the journey to Kaneyama, meeting with father and Endō Motonobu, and coming to Yonezawa. Kabe-sensei nodded every now and then, asked for details he must have regarded as essential, and generally seemed satisfied, especially with the fact that Bontenmaru had been completely well until last night. They finally reached the most recent events, and then doctor turned to the boy.

"Bontenmaru-sama. Am I correct assuming you felt unwell no sooner than last night?"

"Yes, Sensei."

"Yesterday you didn't have any complaints, did you? Like a headache?"

"No. Yesterday evening I was practising calligraphy. If I'd had a headache, I couldn't have been doing it," Bontenmaru answered, trying to maintain required level of concentration.

"And you weren't hot?" the medic inquired.

"I'm never hot," the boy replied.

"I'm well aware of it," Kabe-sensei gave him a little smile. "What I ask about is that particular kind of feeling hot like when you are ill. Like now," he specified.

Bontenmaru blinked. "No, it started last night."

"Did you tell anyone about it? You surely waked up the servants?"

The boy shook his head. "I didn't wake anyone."

Kagetsuna lowered his head. Something in Bontenmaru's words made him feel bad, but he couldn't quite define it. It might have something to do with the boy's solitude, which was almost palpable. Why a son of daimyo didn't told anyone he was unwell, even if in the middle of night? Could it be that he had been taught to behave independently and not to draw attention to himself to such an extent?

Kabe-sensei kept asking the questions, "What happened today morning?"

"Mizuki-san helped me to wash myself and change. Then she brought me a breakfast, like everyday. But I couldn't eat..." His head dropped.

"And what about the rash?"

"The rash?" The boy seemed ignorant.

"You didn't notice? There is rash all over your face and on your neck. Little spots on the skin. If you're not near, you can miss them," the doctor explained.

Bontenmaru put his hand against his check, but probably didn't feel anything since the rash was very fine. "It wasn't there yesterday," he said cautiously. "I looked in the mirror and didn't see it. In the evening, then, Tsukawa-san would have noticed."

"But Mizuki didn't notice it today," Kabe-sensei questioned the credibility of the servant.

"Mizuki-san's vision is poor. She can't see that well at close range. But Tsukawa-san can," the boy claimed.

Without a word, the doctor observed the heir to the Date for a while. "Now I'm going to ask you an important question," he spoke then, "so, please, think carefully. Did you see anyone? Talk to anyone?"

Bontenmaru didn't consider his answer long, although it was obvious he had more and more problems with collecting his thoughts. "No-one. I went to see my mother, to the Room of Cranes."

"Where I happened to be, too, Sensei," Kagetsuna threw in.

"And you're absolutely sure you didn't talk to anyone on your way?"

"My chambers are not far away," the boy replied. "No-one else is permitted to enter them, and servants use the side corridors. I didn't meet anyone."

The doctor nodded again, and turned to Kagetsuna, who reported on what had happened during the boy's meeting with his mother, and tried to do it in possibly impassive tone. He still could see frightened Yoshihime before his eyes, and, although his reason kept telling him that lady of Yonezawa-jō had done a right thing to run from the disease, his heart kept seething with anger. After all, it was about how a mother had behaved towards her child...!

After he finished his story, Kabe-sensei remained silent for a moment. He seemed to organize everything in his head. "I think I may say we are lucky," he spoke finally, but his tone was careful. Then he grabbed the roll he had taken down from the shelf earlier, and spread sheets of parchment. "It's been long since the previous smallpox epidemic in Yonezawa, but surely I was not the one to believe it was the last one. These are observations on the course of disease I made then..." He mused. "Yukawa-kun was my assistant. He knows what to do in case the disease spreads to Yamagata, though I personally doubt it."

Kagetsuna stared at him. "Sensei... Why do you think we are lucky?" he asked eventually, trying to understand the man's words. "Is there something indicating this time everything will be better?" he guessed. "That the disease won't be so serious?"

"Oh, no," the doctor gave him a compassionate look. "I meant... Well, let me explain."

Kagetsuna straightened up little. Bontenmaru seemed to fall asleep sitting, but, each time he happened to tilt towards him, his head snapped up and he tried to overcome his drowsiness. Kagetsuna thought it would probably be better to let him sleep.

"I am almost sure that the diseases spreads from people who have fever and rash," the doctor said. "Every time someone brought the plague to Yonezawa and, even though he started to have fever in few days, earlier he had felt all right and nothing indicated he had been ill. He had met many people, here in the castle, so they should have caught it from him, yet it wasn't the case. Some of those people left and weren't in contact with that person any more, and then, once they came back, they told they hadn't been sick at all. But once the infected person develops the symptoms, everyone will get infected from them."

"Everyone?" Kagetsuna asked anxiously.

"Well, at least everyone who touched them or spent some time in their presence," the doctor specified.

"Which means..."

"Which means we are lucky. If Bontenmaru-sama started to feel ill only last night and in the morning met only with Mizuki and, briefly, with his mother, we may still have a chance to get the disease under control."

"There were also two ladies and Jikumaru," Kagetsuna reminded him.

"But Bontenmaru-sama didn't approach them and didn't stay there any longer, am I right?"

"Yes, it all took only a moment," Kagetsuna had to accept the man's argument.

"And then you took care of him," the doctor finished. "You neither talked nor associated with anybody. You behaved very reasonably, Kagetsuna-kun."

Kagetsuna lowered his head under the praise that, in fact, didn't matter to him. After all, he hadn't planned his doing; he had only wanted to take the boy to Kabe-sensei as soon as possible. He'd had no time to talk to anyone. Besides, who he could talk to?

The doctor treated him kindly, but inside Kagetsuna the feeling of discomfort was welling up. The way in which Kabe-sensei spoke about it all... So calm and matter-of-fact... Earlier Kagetsuna had drown comfort from it, but now he was under the impression the doctor cared little about what was most important. Maybe they did have a chance to control the plague in Yonezawa, maybe they would manage to protect the rest against it - it was of no significance to him. As far as he was concerned, Lady Yoshihime and all court might as well plunge into plague... What really and only mattered was the fact that Bontenmaru was ill and, whatever steps the doctor intended to take, this one would remain true and wouldn't change.

He turned his head, looking at the boy, who was drifting to sleep again, leaning towards him. He clenched his fists and fixed his eyes on the mat.

"Terumune-sama gave me authority to act at my discretion," the doctor said so simply. "As we speak, the gates of Yonezawa-jō are already closed and will remain closed until we are sure the threat will have passed."

Despite his despondency, Kagetsuna couldn't be impressed by the medic's words. He looked at him with amazement. "Many people arrived for tomorrow's celebration," he pointed out.

"Their visitation will last somewhat longer," the doctor stated dryly. "Let's hope they will leave as healthy as they came. I am going to isolate here everyone who will develop any symptoms, as well as those who were in touch with Bontenmaru-sama since last night."

"Lady Yoshihime will never agree to this," Kagetsuna threw in, and the doctor gave him an intent look. "But she didn't even touch him..." he added quietly, not even trying to hide bitterness.

"Well, I suppose Yoshihime will isolate herself along with Jikumaru in her chambers," Kabe-sensei replied, his tone almost carefree. "I'll send for Mizuki right away. Poor girl, she has no idea yet... Maybe I should bring Tsukawa too, after all. If I'm correct, she had a night shift. I'll have Bontenmaru-sama's rooms purified, too, as well as the Crane Room, just in case. Burn the contents," he qualified upon Kagetsuna's questioning gaze. "The disease may lie hidden in the boy's things. I'll have those who have survived smallpox to help me."

Kagetsuna nodded, feeling the numbness overwhelm him. Bontenmaru was sleeping, leant against his side. The warmth radiating from his body penetrated many layers of clothing. Hair fell over his face, and Kagetsuna couldn't but brush it aside.

"I'm glad it's you who will take care of him, Kagetsuna-kun," he was reached by the voice of the doctor, who stood up, ready to act.

The youth raised his questioning eyes on the medic, but, to tell the truth, it was all the same to him how Kabe-sensei - anyone - regarded him. A thought crossed his mind... The realization that if it had been not for him...

"You will stay in this room," the doctor slid another door aside. "Do not leave the garden and do not come near the main building. No-one should stray here, but we can never be sure. It's better to minimise the risks," he cautioned.

Kagetsuna nodded again, taking Bontenmaru in his arms, and stood up. There were few piece of furniture in the next room, but the most important was unfolded bedding. Someone must have prepared the pavilion once Kabe-sensei had informed Terumune-sama he would need it. When necessary, Terumune-sama could issue swift orders, while servants of Yonezawa-jō could quickly execute them - and that thought made Kagetsuna feel a faint gratitude. He put the boy down and pulled the cover on him, wondering torpidly if there was anything else he could do. The water jug was full, in case he wanted to drink...

Kabe-sensei changed into a special robe he had taken out of the chest. "I'll be back soon," he said, sliding the front door open.

"Sensei..."

"Yes?" the man turned in the doorway.

"Do you believe that a plague is a divine punishment?

Kabe-sensei gave him an intent look, just like he used to do, and kept silent for a while. It seemed to Kagetsuna he knew his answer and the man was thinking about something else.

"No," the doctor replied in a calm voice, "but it won't hurt to pray to gods," he added and left, sliding the door shut behind him.

Kagetsuna went back to the room and sat down next to Bontenmaru's bed. For a moment he stared at his flushed face. The boy was breathing fast through half-opened mouth. It looked as if the disease escalated every minute...

He turned his head and looked at the hollyhocks peeping inside through the window. The feeling of sadness coming over him was unbearable. It surged in his chest like a dark, cold puddle, making all his thoughts disperse chaotically so that none of them could bring any comfort. It might be better to think of nothing at all and let this state persist, for any attempt to resist only worsened the situation. He lowered his head and closed his eyes, imagining he was somewhere else...

He must have momentarily dropped off. The sound of footsteps brought him around and to the quick realization everything had indeed happened and wasn't a dream. Kabe-sensei came back only with Mizuki-san. Tsukawa-san turned out to have left the castle early in the morning, right after her shift had ended. Looking for her was out of question. Her company would have surely consoled Mizuki, who seemed to need it desperately as she was following after the doctor, face covered by a sleeve. She appeared very miserable. The medic led her to another room, where she curled in the bed and pulled the cover over her head. Soon, a quiet sob came from under the blanket. Normally, Kagetsuna would undoubtedly bother, but now...

Kabe-sensei examined Bontenmaru, who was still sleeping restlessly. It appeared that the fine rash was covering also the upper part of the boy's chest and shoulders. The doctor explained this particular symptom occurred only in some patients and was connected with the fever, and the actual smallpox rash would appear in few days. Kagetsuna listened to him in silence.

Later in the afternoon, two servants showed up. They were in charge of preparing meals for the ill and isolated ones, replenishing the fresh water and keeping the place clean. They barely talked, performing their duties in silence and trying not to draw attention to themselves. Kagetsuna wondered if the work made them recall the time when they had been suffering from the disease, maybe in similarly forlorn and dreary place. The day was still fine, the sun was shining through the branches of trees, and the hollyhocks were swaying in the soft wind, yet Kagetsuna was under the impression that everything had dimmed and frozen. Despondency he couldn't overcome at all took possession of the whole reality. Inescapably, silence reigning in the pavilion made think of death, that could already lurk in the shadow of bushes and corners.

Never in his life Kagetsuna had felt so desolate before.

He didn't know the worst was yet to come.


	11. Chapter 11

**~11~**  
**Names**

* * *

Kagetsuna wasn't concerned about his own safety. Maybe he could have put it down to his samurai spirit; after all, even though he wasn't a samurai yet, he knew for sure what it meant. A samurai didn't fear death - it was an unquestionable truth no-one could evade. Samurai children were being brought up so that they always remembered one day - maybe unexpectedly - they would meet their end. Maybe on the battlefield, maybe defending their honour, or in yet another circumstances. If parents managed to convince their offspring to see their lives merely as a transient time, they succeeded as educators. For a samurai, there were things more important than life, and most of samurai really felt like that. Kagetsuna didn't fear for himself. He was fully aware he would fall ill in few days - right now, he was witnessing the symptoms of disease with his own eyes, so he knew what to expect - and he accepted it calmly.

All his fear concerned purely and simply Bontenmaru. It was a subject's fear for his master, a brother's fear for his brother, a man's fear for the only person that mattered for him. He couldn't lose him. The very thought made his breath fade away and his blood freeze in his veins. Spending long hours by the boy's bed and seeing his suffering - his struggle with death - Kagetsuna was under the impression he was going mad. Sometimes, it seemed to him he had already gone mad. Before, he had regarded himself an even-tempered person who could control his emotions; now, nothing seemed more unreal than that. Now, the emotions swirling inside him were so violent he felt like pounding his fists on the wall, kicking the furniture and doors, screaming and swearing. His soul filled with the worst and most anguished desires, impulses and craving. He felt like a demon capable of the greatest atrocities in the name of what was important to him. Only yesterday he wouldn't have recognized himself; only yesterday he had believed that passion was the obstacle on the way to perfection, and tried to overcome it. Today, he didn't spare it a single thought.

Bontenmaru was feeling very bad. The fever was constantly rising, and Kagetsuna could only change cold compresses on his head, water him and fan. For the most part, the boy remained out of touch with reality, staying in the restless state; delirious and haunted by nightmares, he screamed and cried. Sometimes he regained consciousness and then he tried to focus his gaze on Kagetsuna, was squeezing his hand and wanted to talk. Eating was difficult for him because his mouth became covered - outside and inside - with blisters; besides, he was still nauseated and kept bringing up most of the food Kagetsuna forced upon him. Kabe-sensei decided to let him be as the situation should improve in few days anyway, so Kagetsuna concentrated on making sure that the boy drank enough.

As for the pain, Bontenmaru felt it in all parts of his body. Especially his head and back were hurting, and even lying caused him discomfort - yet he gave in to it only when fever made him lose consciousness. When lucid, he never complained, only focused on keeping in touch with the world and Kagetsuna. That time, Kagetsuna, with all his strength, tried to subdue all the negative emotions raging in him and ensure the boy the comfort he needed. Even if it seemed much more difficult than fighting any enemy.

When Bontenmaru waked up for the first time - the same day Kabe-sensei brought them to the pavilion - Kagetsuna understood it would be much harder than he had expected.

"Why mother isn't coming?" the boy asked, and Kagetsuna had to clench his teeth not to say something he shouldn't.

"You don't want her to get infected, do you?" he forced himself to reply, recalling Yoshihime's frightened face. "Or Jikumaru."

The boy mused, then nodded and whispered, "No. I don't want them to fall ill."

Kagetsuna nodded, too, although only he knew how difficult it was. If it were up to him, he would go to Yoshihime's chambers and drag her, even by her hair, to the bed her suffering child was lying in. Once he realized his thoughts, he was shocked at first, but then he understood she didn't deserve any better. He couldn't explain to himself her behaviour, no matter how rationally he tried to justify her. To tell the truth, he didn't really try. All the positive feelings he had even had for Lady Yoshihime - if he had indeed had any - were lost. In his eyes, she was worse than a demon. He wished her ill luck and vindictively hoped she would suffer her punishment in one of the hell realms.

One day Kabe-sensei informed him Yoshihime had been asking about Bontenmaru's condition. Kagetsuna held back the first answer that came to his mind, 'Why won't she come and see for herself?' There was no point in giving any thought to Yoshihime; he had to concentrate on tending to her son. He watered the boy, changed his clothes and bed linen. He stayed by his side, slept sitting down and never let go of his hand. He said all prayers he knew and another he thought up. He recited aloud _The King of Prayers_ Bontenmaru liked and, from time to time, he unaware muttered to the gods for pity for the boy. Ojizō-sama, Protector of Children. Kannon, Goddess of Mercy. Amida Buddha, greatest benignity. And Fudō Myō-ō, a special patron of the boy, a deity of help against a plague. Dwelling in semi-conscious torpor, Kagetsuna hoped that at least one of them would hear him, even if he was under the impression everyone had forgotten about them in this place.

Time seemed to have stopped. The world had narrowed to that garden by the outer walls of the castle, where flowers were still blooming, trees were still green, and the grass was gently swaying in the wind. The main building towered upon them like an inaccessible fortress, and no face appeared in its windows. Brought up to become a samurai one day, Kagetsuna was able to look the death in the eye and feel no fear, but the feeling of being abandoned was much harder to bear. Man belonged in the society, was part of a group and had to have people around. Only through community his value was determined. Outcast had no future. Desolated and left alone... It was a fate worse than death. Here, in this isolated place, it was easy to believe there was nobody but them in the world. It was easy to believe that the world had gone ahead, leaving them here to die.

Kagetsuna could remember the joy and almost holiday atmosphere reigning in Yonezawa-jō when Lady Yoshihime had been expecting her first-born. Although he had left before Bontenmaru had been born, he had known he had never witnessed anything of that kind. A heir to the family always was someone special. His coming into the world was celebrated in a different manner, and he was treated differently, too. After all, he was the one to lead the next generations. In Yonezawa-jō, it had been easy to sense the solemn ambience, and the whole court had kept saying prayers for Lady Yoshihime and her unborn child. Everyone had shared the silent joy: the family of the daimyo, retainers and servants.

Now, no-one was celebrating Bontenmaru's fifth birthday.

Kagetsuna was under the impression those very same people had turned back, brought down the curtain and written them off. That they were looking in the direction of this place, terrified, yet relieved they were safe themselves. That they awaited the plague would take those it had already caught, and the threat would pass. They stayed in the castle, isolated as well - for they couldn't break the daimyo's order and leave - but still believing they were going to be fine because those whom even gods had cursed had been taken care of. Fortunately, the daimyo had another son, who could succeed him, if needed. It was all that mattered. Let everything ended soon.

At times, Kagetsuna realized such thoughts resulted from not getting enough sleep, from fatigue and the general bitterness caused by the whole situation; still, he couldn't chase them away for longer. The atmosphere dwelling in the pavilion and its surroundings didn't predispose to the positive thoughts. Every day look at the same walls, every day tread the same path around the small building, with no-one to talk to, fighting with the feeling of being closed. Mizuki-san kept laying on her bed, turning her back on everyone, withdrawn into her despair, unwilling to speak with anyone. She must have felt the same way he did: expelled by her own, cursed by gods, doomed to be isolated in this little piece of land, awaiting her death sentence. She didn't wish being comforted nor she counted on it. She only replied Kabe-sensei's questions, and her brief words were deprived of any hope. She didn't even cry any more. Kagetsuna didn't believe her to pray, either. She was like a dead person already.

The servants didn't talk unless they absolutely had to. They respected the misfortune of those they tended to. They knew they were safe themselves and that their situation was different, better, certain. They were aware that all words of comfort, coming from them, would be like an irony or deriding from those whose fate was still hanging in the balance. Besides... they were but servants and had no right to speak such things to the nobility. If Kagetsuna had hoped that, maybe at least here, the stiff boundaries would disappear and people would simply become people to each other, he was greatly mistaken. It seemed that hardship, instead of uniting and mitigating, erected even higher walls.

Kabe-sensei did speak with him every day, but only about health and disease. Actually... Kagetsuna wasn't sure if he even wanted to share with the man what was on his mind. Everything seemed so pointless it was no use opening mouth to talk about it. Besides, it all referred to the normal life that now was out of reach, far in the world of dreams that, perhaps, were to never come true. If he started to talk about himself, his years in Kaneyama, Yonezawa and Zuigan-ji, about his father, aunt and deceased mother, about his wishes, goals and hopes... it would only worsen the situation with the painful awareness that it had all happened for the last time and may not happen any more. That it was all but past, and the future didn't really exist.

In such moments, maybe it really was better to limit himself to cold facts: fever, rash, pain and other symptoms of ailment. Or the lack of them.

* * *

It was afternoon, probably the third day of their isolation - he had already lost the sense of time. Kabe-sensei was dozing in his room, and Bontenmaru managed to fall into restless sleep, so Kagetsuna went outside. The evening was close. The sun had already gone down behind the wall, and the shadow was covering the garden, but the red tinted rays were still brushing against the castle roof. He sat down on the wooden panel, resting his tired back against the wall, and stared at the top of the white tower bathed in the golden light. The sky seemed so far... as far as the castle standing no more than twenty jō* away. He ran his eyes over the floors of that magnificent building that had belonged to many generations of the Date. There, from the topmost terrace one could see all the way to the Ōu range, its highest peaks covered with snow even in the summertime. Kagetsuna wondered if he could even get to see the mountains again...

It took some time for his sight to catch a slender silhouette in the entrance to the garden. A figure must have stood there for a while, but it was not moving and thus blended into the shadowed scenery. Kagetsuna screwed up his weary eyes, trying to identify the person, surprise at the fact someone had appeared in his world, unless it was a ghost. The person only stood there, looking in Kagetsuna's direction. Maybe it was a madman, driven by a craving for sensation that had led him to the place governed by death; in that case he didn't deserve any attention. Maybe he had come to ridicule someone else's misfortune, and this thought angered Kagetsuna, whose nerves were already on edge and who felt he didn't need much to explode. He stood up and headed for the stranger, irate - and almost happy at the same time that there was someone he could vent all his despair and wrath, and hate, and...

He stood dead in his track upon realizing who was standing before him: Date Terumune, a daimyo of Yonezawa and a ruler of great domain.

For a moment, Kagetsuna only stared at him. His prior emotions evaporated all at once, and his mind became completely empty as he tried to guess why his lord was here. What was he doing here? Why had he strayed to the place where he risked his health and life? Unnecessarily. Unlike him. Lord Terumune didn't use to act so recklessly. Kagetsuna blinked, unsure again if his eyes didn't delude him, but the figure of his master was still there, roughly three jō away.

Lord Terumune didn't move from the spot. His face, normally serene, was pale and drawn now. It appeared as if he hadn't slept well for a while, so different from some days ago when he had been talking to Kagetsuna and, with his typical verve, planning the youth's rosy future. Now the look of his eyes was distressed, dejected and sad, and regret, and dashed hopes... Or maybe, Kagetsuna asked himself, these were his own feelings?

He took one step. "Terumune-sama, you shouldn't-"

"How is he?" the daimyo cut him short. His quiet voice, coming from his bloodless lips, was tense, as if the man tried to hide what his gaze revealed. "How is my son?"

Kagetsuna was silent for a moment, observing him. "Bad," he said finally. "He has a high fever and is suffering."

Terumune's face twitched. The daimyo clenched his fists. Suddenly, Kagetsuna realized he had never seen his lord so open before. He lowered his head, remembering the etiquette... The next moment, however, it snapped up as he heard the words that almost shook him, "It is all my fault."

"Terumune-sama, please, do not say such things...!" he called out, troubled. Whatever the situation, he just couldn't stand that his master was blaming himself for something he shouldn't. Especially that...

"I shouldn't have agreed for his stay in Ungan-ji," Terumune kept talking as if he had not heard the plea Kagetsuna's voice.

It could be that he didn't saw the youth any more, looking inside and considering something he shouldn't. Kagetsuna kept silent; there was no point in interrupting the man's reflection and, maybe, penance. He slowly started to understand why the daimyo had come here... and it filled him with some - it seemed, long forgotten - warmth, which was quite strange in the circumstances...

Even if Terumune-sama felt bad, even if he dwelt in grim despair that shadowed his thoughts, it proved only one: his concern for son. Before Kagetsuna was standing a father who suffered along with his child, not a daimyo aware of the fact he had yet other son that could succeed him.

"I wanted to name him Masamune," the man spoke, more to himself than anyone else, looking through Kagetsuna inside the garden.

Kagetsuna clenched his fists. Something began to stir inside him, some violent force different from anything he had even known. Some objection. He couldn't remain calm in the face of such passive resignation. He couldn't stay quiet in the situation when his beloved master was about to surrender without putting up a fight. Maybe it was the measure he took to protect himself from total despair. And maybe Kagetsuna, only a moment ago, had felt to be close to falling into doubt himself... But now, as he was looking at a man who was just a step from apathy, he was under the impression all his fighting instincts were waking up, even those he hadn't been aware of until now.

"Terumune-sama, please, do not abandon hope," he called out sturdily, driving away a thought it wasn't a proper way to talk to his lord. "Bontenmaru-sama will recover and fulfil his task. He is strong. He is... a son of the Date."

Terumune's eyes, earlier wandering in a dimension known only to him, focused on the youth, and some life flickered in them for the first time. The man looked at Kagetsuna with a shadow of gratitude, and it seemed the corners of his mouth twitched. The daimyo lowered his head as if he had been reprimanded, and hugged himself.

"Terumune-sama..."

"Take care of my son, Kagetsuna-kun," the man spoke, and his words sounded completely different from Yoshihime's.

They sounded like a request, not an order. Like begging of a parent who couldn't stay by his child's side and couldn't do anything for him. Even if he wanted with all his heart.

"You can count on me, Terumune-sama," Kagetsuna replied, putting his soul into that formula.

Now he could say for sure that the daimyo's face brightened up - a little, but undoubtedly. It seemed the man wanted to say more, but he eventually left it unsaid. Then he turned and walked away, disappearing in the duskiness of evening. Kagetsuna kept looking in the direction the man vanished. Not even a swaying of the grass revealed someone had been there only a moment ago. The world seemed to liven up a bit, though. Kagetsuna found he could hear the crickets.

He turned back to the pavilion. Kabe-sensei stretched himself, as if trying to wake up and, at the same time, wanting to stay in the world of dreams, illusive and pleasant. Kagetsuna went past him, careful not to disturb his rest, and sat down by Bontenmaru's bed. The boy's breathing seemed easier, but there was no other improvement in his condition visible. Kagetsuna stared at his face, realizing he could find more and more semblance to Lord Terumune in it. The same straight eyebrows and forehead. Slightly marked cheekbones. Thin lips. Bontenmaru was every inch a son of the Date, just like Kagetsuna had told the daimyo - based on his looks already, but there was much more. There was his character, that would one day let him assume the mantle of power over the whole family.

"Masamune-sama..."

The boy turned his head, opening his eyes and trying to focus their gaze on Kagetsuna. "What did you say?" he asked quite lucidly.

Kagetsuna felt at a loss. Only now he realized he had said it aloud. A guilt struck him, also because of having disturbed the boy's sleep. As for a name he had given away so shamelessly...

Actually... It didn't sound that bad and even... fit. Bontenmaru was still giving him an inquiring look. Could he answer him? Well... But... He swallowed hard. Suddenly he was sure. He hoped Lord Terumune would forgive him.

"It is the name you will bear once you grow up. Once you recover and one day become a daimyo," he declared, and there was no hesitation to his voice.

"Once I recover?" the boy asked somewhat surprised.

"Of course. They will call you 'Masamune-sama'."

"Masamune..." Bontenmaru repeated thoughtfully, as if he was trying the word out. "Masamune." He looked at Kagetsuna and smiled. "I like it," he said.

Kagetsuna felt some elation. He couldn't stop now. "Date Masamune. Sounds good, don't you think?"

"Father is Date Terumune, and grandfather is Date Harumune. So it fits," the boy agreed.

"Well, yes..."

"And before them was... Date Tanemune!" the boy called triumphantly.

"It's settled, then," Kagetsuna interrupted that genealogical counting, registering his own intellectual shortcomings.

He was glad he had managed to, unexpectedly, cheer Bontenmaru up; although, to tell the truth, the credit went rather to Terumune-sama. Bontenmaru seemed to liven up a little. Earlier, Kagetsuna hadn't understood how important it was to raise the boy's spirits and make him think of the future. They had spent the last few days in the atmosphere fitting more the funeral house. Kagetsuna felt bad at the very thought. How heedlessly. How foolishly... As if everything had been lost already and there had been no hope any more.

Well, he was going to change it from now on. Silence, gloom, desolation... They didn't create the optimal conditions to get better, especially in the case of a small boy. Even if Bontenmaru, for the most part, either slept or was unconscious, there were still those instants when he was in touch with reality. That time he needed to be heartened and strengthened in his struggle against death. He had to know there was a future awaiting him and it was worth fighting for. If he sank into apathy and lethargy, he would lose the will to make an effort.

And what if...

"What if..." Kagetsuna started and stopped right away.

He hesitated. He didn't know if he was allowed to do it. But if it was to help...

Bontenmaru looked at him expectantly. "And if I... called you Masamune?" he asked, swallowing.

The boy's eyes flashed, not only due to the fever. "Could you call me it?"

It was the problem. Kagetsuna didn't know if he could. On the other hand, he was under the impression that it was no-one else's business... "At least the time we're here. And later, too, if no-one hear."

The boy mused. It seemed he was intensely thinking on his answer. Finally, he said, "Do you think I'll get used to it?"

"Oh, I'm sure of it!"

"And what if I get accustomed too much and cease reacting when I'm called Bontenmaru?"

Kagetsuna blinked. Well, that was certainly a logical argument. He felt he was in a spot. And it had seemed a good idea...

"Masamune..." the boy said again.

Even if he still wasn't sure, some longing in his voice made it understand he wanted... he had nothing against... he could already hear others call him this name. The question was if he had enough courage...

He looked at Kagetsuna again, and this time his face was serious. "Call me it, please," he said in a trembling voice. "But only you."

Kagetsuna nodded solemnly. He had to swallow again because his throated clenched suddenly. "Understood, Masamune-sama."

Bontenmaru gave him another shy smile.

Kagetsuna blinked. He realized it was already dark in the room. He stood up abruptly and set about lighting the candles, blinking all the time, as if he tried to get rid of some dust from his eyes that prevented him from seeing properly. Taking advantage of the fact Bontenmaru seemed to feel better, he decided to feed him. He even managed to change the sheets and the boy's clothes - but it was all Bontenmaru could afford now. Exhausted, he lay down in the bed, breathing heavily, but didn't stop to smile. Soon he drifted to sleep.

* * *

It felt so easy to believe that the worst was already over - Kagetsuna's mind was crying out for that belief, and the moment he had managed to look into the next days, weeks and years was enough to foster his hope - but it was only a beginning. The following day brought new torments with it. Bontenmaru's fever started to slowly fall, and it was a reason to be happy, but this happiness quickly faded in the face of the subsequent symptoms of disease. The blisters covering Bontenmaru's lips, tongue and palate began to rupture, causing him a great pain. Eating was out of question, and Kagetsuna had never before felt so brave and victorious as now, whenever he managed to force some water upon the boy. Talking and even getting his mouth open inflicted suffering. At this stage, it seemed, Bontenmaru's strength started running low, and Kagetsuna felt the boy was at the end of his tether. It was harder and harder for him to hold back the moans of pain, and treacherous tears flowed from his eyes every now and then. He wiped them quickly.

Since the fever receded, he was more lucid now - and it was a cruelty because it exposed him to torment during long hours of consciousness, when he wasn't able to even speak and only kept looking at Kagetsuna with darkened eyes and squeezing his hand. It took Kagetsuna's whole willpower to return the look while everything inside him revolted against regarding such a suffering. In those days, he started anew to comprehend what it meant to be brave - or maybe he was finally grasping it? - when all he wanted was to run away, hide and not be forced to witness such a harsh fate of the boy.

Devotion to the master meant something else, though. It meant to stay by his side not only in moments of joy, happiness and triumph, but also in defeat and hardship. Maybe even more then. He had been naive thinking the sun would always shine over his head. Maybe it was Lord Terumune's image he was bearing in his mind that had distorted his way of thinking. Terumune-sama appeared to be blessed by fate, and there was no fight he couldn't win. In Yonezawa-jō, life seemed easy and one entered following days with belief that today, too, everything would be as it should. By Lord Terumune's side one could fall into the illusion that life consisted only of success. Kagetsuna was glad he understood what the reality looked like - although, if given a choice, he would rather he had found it out in different circumstances.

His own discomfort he ignored completely. His back was in pain all the time now since, for most part, he kept sitting by Bontenmaru's bed, stooped, hunched, bent in one position over the boy. He didn't remember about eating, he wasn't hungry; sometimes he only drank water from the jug that servants filled up regularly. He hadn't had a proper wash for many days now; only every morning he washed his face. He supposed he was already stinking. He tried to keep Bontenmaru as clean as possible - but this, too, was restricted to cleanse his face with a wet towel and changing his clothing. His own hair was already tangled and sloppily tied, and Bontenmaru wasn't presenting any better himself.

One evening Bontenmaru squeezed his hand tighter. Kagetsuna roused from stupor he had been in for some time now, and opened his weary eyes. Bontenmaru was regarding him consciously and intently.

"Masamune-sama?"

"I've thought it up," the boy said through his sore lips.

"Don't talk," Kagetsuna reminded him, bending down.

Bontenmaru shook his head slightly, bracing himself for the next effort. "Name... for you," he whispered.

Kagetsuna looked at him, suddenly speechless. First what occurred him was that Bontenmaru couldn't have imagined it was him who had got the idea of the name Masamune, could he? Well, he quickly realized, it didn't matter that much. The more important was that the boy had apparently spent the last hours thinking on... a name... For him? His chest clenched.

"Easier... to say," the boy added.

Kagetsuna was still staring at him, unable to utter a word. Finally, he cleared his throat, aware that Bontenmaru was awaiting his response. He rubbed his eyes. "What name?"

"Kojūrō," the boy whispered.

Kagetsuna blinked. It was supposed to be easier to pronounce? He tried it out in mind. It was shorter, all right... And it did engage the tongue and lips less... But...

Anxiety flickered in Bontenmaru's eyes. "You don't-"

"I like it," Kagetsuna answered quickly. "I like it very much."

His eyes were stinging again. He lowered his head, swallowing the lump in his throat.

He liked it. He would have liked everything, anything - but he liked it, too. He took a deep breath. He hadn't expected it. Or his own reaction. He felt warmth spreading inside him, soothing that pang that pierced his heart at first.

He had got a name. His future master had bestowed on him a name he had himself thought up. Could a man have been possibly given anything more valuable? Kojūrō. He liked it. He would bear it proudly. It was wonderful.

He smiled to Bontenmaru, finally daring to look at him. The sight wasn't blurred any more.

"Katakura Kojūrō. It sounds pretty good."

Bontenmaru nodded. His eyes were shining.

"I like Kagetsuna, too, but it's soon time to part with it... You have saved me trouble of thinking over a new one, Masamune-sama," he went on, hastily, only to not let the boy speak. "I am grateful to you."

Bontenmaru's grip on his hand tightened. The boy looked so sick, so terribly bad - yet he seemed extremely happy at the same time.

"I am honoured," Kagetsuna added, and each word was true. "Please, call me it."

"Kojūrō..." Bontenmaru whispered, closing his eyes.

Kagetsuna gently brushed the boy's damp hair aside from his face. For a moment, he simply sat with a hand on his head, and then he bent down.

"Thank you, Masamune-sama," he replied in a whisper, too. "Thank you. But now... do not say any more."

* * *

* jō - in old Japanese system of measurement 1 jō ≈ 3.030 metres ≈ 9.942 feets ≈ 3.314 yards

_(wikipedia)_


	12. Chapter 12

**~12~**  
**Fudō Myō-ō**

* * *

The very next morning brought yet another change in Bontenmaru's conditions: the rash mentioned before by Kabe-sensei. It was nothing like those earlier innocent spot's on the boy's skin. The pimples first appeared on his forehead and then quickly spread all over his face, coming down on the neck, trunk, arms and legs. One could almost see them forming with the naked eye.

The only good thing about it was that Bontenmaru's state improved. Kabe-sensei did say that the danger wasn't over yet and warned Kagetsuna of excessive optimism - the disease was still consuming the boy's body, even though the fever fell and he himself was feeling better. It was the only consolation, though, since only now did Kagetsuna realize the seriousness of the disease and its extent. By evening, almost all of Bontenmaru's skin was covered with pimples: his eye-lids, nose, ears, even scalp. Never in his life had Kagetsuna seen anything like this, while Kabe-sensei only kept nodding. Bontenmaru, however, was strong enough to sit up, which he did - along with observing his forearms, where pimples were almost as dense as on his face, although he couldn't know it. He looked so grotesque that Kagetsuna was at a loss as for how he should react. The sight was terrible, all right, but it was probably even more astounding; after all, Bontenmaru had never terrified him. He wasn't suffering any more and his mouth seemed to heal, which was a relief.

The following day the pimples became bigger and looked like rice grains covered with skin. Bontenmaru started to run fever again, and Kagetsuna had to struggle with overpowering fear for his life - again. The boy slept the day and night at one go, and even Kagetsuna, who didn't know anything about medicine, understood his condition worsened. Kabe-sensei's face was serious, and the doctor didn't need to say it was the most decisive time now, for it could to be read from his eyes. He examined the boy more often and applied the herbs to reduce his fever. His concern was palpable, and Kagetsuna had to muster all his strength to control himself, for it seemed to him he was only a step away from insanity. It wasn't even a week since they had come here, yet it felt as if he had been years in this isolation, a fear for a little boy being his only reality.

Did Ojizō-sama and Kannon really hear him?

The next day Bontenmaru opened his eyes. Or, actually, he only slightly parted his eyelids since the pimples covering them made it impossible to open them fully. He blinked a few times. "Kojūrō?"

"Masamune-sama?"

"I can't see you."

Kagetsuna looked at him, frowning. The boy raised his hand. Kagetsuna grabbed it and moved closer. "I'm right by you," he said with concern. "All the time."

Bontenmaru turned his head aside. "Now I can see you," he replied, relieved. "A little."

Kagetsuna nodded. Sudden fear clenching his heard subsided. "It's because you can't open your eyes normally. You have to wait for the rash to disappear. Sensei told it will take some days."

"Why can't I open my eyes?" the boy asked, astonished.

"Your eye-lids are swollen," Kagetsuna explained calmly. At least, he hoped his voice was calm. "You've seen those blisters on your hands, haven't you? They are covering your face and eyes, too." Bontenmaru brought his left hand to his face, but Kagetsuna grasped it. "Don't touch. Sensei told not to touch."

Bontenmaru nodded in agreement. For a moment he lay still, his eyes close again. "Kojūrō?"

"Yes, Masamune-sama?"

"Has anyone else fallen ill?"

Kagetsuna changed his position to more comfortable. "I don't think so. At least, no-one else have come here."

"That's good," the boy said in a voice as if he was relieved.

Good? Kagetsuna didn't think about it. He didn't think about others at all; he had become indifferent to others' fortune and didn't even care about them. Apparently, Bontenmaru thought otherwise. Ah, but he was to become a daimyo. To be responsible for others. Only now did Kagetsuna feel a pang of guilt. His future master - ten years younger - was setting an example...

"Because, if there fell ill," the boy went on, "it would be my fault."

Kagetsuna lowered his head. He suddenly remembered Lord Terumune, who had blamed himself for something he shouldn't have. No-one better than Kagetsuna realized who really was at fault for what had happened. He swallowed and shook his head. "Masamune-sama, do not say such things."

"But..."

"No-one else fell ill, and that's what matters," he declared firmly.

"What about Mizuki-san?"

"No change. She keeps laying in her room and speaks to no-one, but Sensei told she has no symptoms."

"It's good," the boy repeated.

Kagetsuna left unsaid that the symptoms were yet to appear in few days, if he counted correctly. Both in him and the woman. But he wasn't going to bother.

"It's time for breakfast," he announced, standing up to get the tray one of the servants had just slipped into the room.

"I'm not hungry..."

"Masamune-sama, you must eat to recover."

"But..."

"You've barely eaten anything in last days. From now on, I stop being so lenient on you."

"But... you will eat with me, won't you, Kojūrō?"

"Of course. Unlike you, there's nothing wrong with my appetite."

"It's good," Bontenmaru said for the third time.

"Good," now Kagetsuna could agree.

It would be good to eat in advance, he thought, if only it were possible... Judging from the boy's symptoms, that he'd had more than enough time to observe, soon he would lose any desire to eat... No, he had decided not to think about it. Still, the concern that accompanied him all the time - because it was always so easy to find new reason for it - wouldn't go away. He hoped he wouldn't fall ill until Bontenmaru felt better. Until they were sure the boy...

"Kojūrō...?"

Kagetsuna shook his head to sober himself. Once again, he had mused, bowl in his hand, gaping at the boy's face. "It's nothing. I'll help you sit up, now."

He supported Bontenmaru with pillows. Now, in the morning, the fever was lower, so he should make use of it - both to feed and cheer up the boy, and those two things didn't necessarily contradict each other.

"Itadakimasu. Open your mouth."

"You're going to feed me?"

"I fed you before already since you had no strength to hold the chopsticks, Masamune-sama."

"But now I do," indignation mixed with amusement rang in the boy's voice.

"But, for a change, you can barely see anything. I bet you would stick them in your nose instead your mouth."

"Kojūrō..."

"Or to your eye. Do not whine, Masamune-sama. A samurai doesn't whine."

Bontenmaru giggled. Kagetsuna was under the impression he had never heard anything more beautiful. He suppressed a smile, trying to maintain a serious look.

"But you won't tell anyone, all right?" the boy asked.

"I won't," Kagetsuna promised solemnly. Besides... who he could tell about it? "Here, the first helping..."

The day promised to be fine. Kagetsuna felt as if he had long since paid no attention to what had been happening outside the window. It seemed nothing had changed there: the sun was still shining, and the hollyhock kept tilting their head together, as if whispering some secrets to each other. Bontenmaru was feeling better; one could tell it at first glance. Whatever Kabe-sensei told, Kagetsuna couldn't believe there was still any danger. Finally, everything would be all right...

They finished the meal and drank their tea; Bontenmaru got the mug and was very careful not to spill its content on himself. Invaluable servants fixed the comb up, and Kagetsuna took care of the boy's hair. If tomorrow Bontenmaru felt equally good, they could think of a bath... Now he brushed out the boy's tangled mop, hoping it would lighten his spirit, too.

The boy spent the rest of the morning listening to Kagetsuna's tales of Yonezawa-jō and planning which places they would visit once he recovered. Kagetsuna was telling about the corners, existence of which Bontenmaru had been oblivious to until now, and the way the youth was describing them simply made one want to see them. For instance, the attic seemed very fascinating indeed...

The boy had slept a lot that day, as well as the following night, despite the fever. Kabe-sensei didn't object the bath, so the next day they really carried it out - with help of the servants and with some emotions when Bontenmaru nearly fell asleep in the middle of it. Everyone was laughing, and Kagetsuna wondered how he could ever regard those people gloomies... He himself dabbled long enough to feel as if he was born anew. In the meantime, the servants cleaned and aired their room, changed the bedding and brought fresh clothes. The situation had taken a turn for the better, Kagetsuna had no doubt about it.

* * *

First symptoms appeared the next day: headache, pain in the back - although this one was hard to tell since his back had been aching for several days now - and, of course, fever. Kabe-sensei urged him to lie down, but Kagetsuna declined, asking merely for the infusion to help him reduce temperature. After he lost consciousness and fell down onto Bontenmaru's bed, the boy, in quite decisive tone, ordered him to go to his own one. When Kagetsuna started to resist it, Bontenmaru squinted and said very clearly, "It's an order, Kojūrō."

At first, Kagetsuna felt like protesting. 'You are not my master,' occurred in his mind, but he came to his senses in time. _Your loyalty is rather wavering, Katakura Kojūrō,_ he thought ironically. Ashamed, he pulled the cover up and spent the following two days under it.

Bontenmaru's condition was stable, and the servants swiftly took care of him, so no-one had any reason to complain. Kagetsuna fought with fever and tried to stay conscious. Bontenmaru was laying next to him - he had made the servants move his bedding as close as possible - and kept behaving like a good boy who didn't intend to trouble anyone. He let to be fed and underwent all other procedures without as much as a word of objection. At the beginning, Kagetsuna, observing it with his feverish eyes, was almost jealous until he understood Bontenmaru didn't want to worry him in the first place.

Really, the disease didn't affect his reason in the positive way.

Soon he felt better; the blisters in his mouth weren't anything pleasant, but they were easier to tolerate than weakening fever. Once they started to rupture, it became even less pleasant, but, in general, he didn't feel that bad. Still, Bontenmaru insisted that he remained silent, so most of time they were simply laying in silence, facing each other and looking one another in the eye. Bontenmaru often stretched out his hand, yearning for contact, and Kagetsuna took it - and hours passed by like this. Later, Kagetsuna realized he had never before felt such an intimacy with anyone - and he suspected it wouldn't be possible with anyone else. It could sound illogical since he was bedridden by the life threatening disease, but the psychological comfort he derived from Bontenmaru's being so close was unmatched. It was nothing like what he had experienced so far in his life.

No-one would believe him, but he was really happy.

The rash occurred afterwards; strangely, it was much sparser than in Bontenmaru's case, limited mostly to forehead and cheeks, palms and feet. It was accompanied by a bizarre feeling as if he had peppercorns dug under the skin. It neither pained nor itched. He didn't have the high fever and generally felt quite good. It seemed his case was much milder, and Kagetsuna not even once had a feeling he was looking the death into eye. Bontenmaru had the worst past him, too. When pimples began to appear on Kagetsuna's skin, the boy's ones were already forming crust and scab. Their surface was dry, and Kabe-sensei told they should start falling off soon. It could last many days, but after it Bontenmaru would recover. It was a happy news, so they kept waiting and every day carefully examined the places where the rash was densest to see if not yet.

Kagetsuna was thinking a lot about how the boy had adapted to such terrible situation. He hadn't showed any fear, and it was only others he had been worrying about. It meant he was both courageous and loyal, and these were the traits no commander - no samurai, in fact - could do without. In addition, he must have had great will to live - that Kagetsuna, on his part, was trying to strengthen in him - since he had overcome such a grave illness. His suffering, however, was only his, and Kagetsuna was to remember it eternally because he had witnessed it while being unable to ease it. He really hoped the boy had exhausted his limits of misfortune - at least for the next twenty years - for it was much more than average man endured in the lifetime.

After that one time, Bontenmaru hadn't mentioned his mother any more; he must have missed her, but he kept a stiff upper lip. Maybe he had understood the reason of Kagetsuna's answer - which Kagetsuna personally considered very stilted - and, that being a case, he couldn't really wish for her presence. As for Kagetsuna, he had managed to push Lady Yoshihime out from his mind, and it was only Lord Terumune he had regarded as the boy's parent. He knew the daimyo would be happy; after all, the sovereign had given him to understand that he deeply cared for his son. Now that everything was improving, he couldn't but wonder if Lady Yoshihime would somehow change her mind about her first-born. Every mother must have worried about her child, especially in the face of such deadly disease. Her first reaction was, all in all, understandable - no-one was perfect, even a wife of daimyo. Still, Kagetsuna hoped, if only to some extent, that Lady Yoshihime, sooner or later, had realized her son had been fighting for life and supported him from afar. It would be desirable - and conceivable - that she treated Bontenmaru with greater affection from now on.

* * *

September was drawing near its end. The days were getting shorter and not so hot any more, but it was still pleasantly warm outside. Day by day, they felt better and they took advantage of it, spending time with garden doors apart or on veranda, surrounded by cordiality of the two servants and glad Kabe-sensei. Mizuki-san was ill and didn't leave her room, and doctor was the only person she showed her face to. Kabe-sensei mentioned that her condition was quite serious, but they didn't give up hope that she would recover. Her death would be a blow for Bontenmaru, who blamed himself for bringing the plague to Yonezawa-jō, and Kagetsuna, from all his heart, wanted to spare him further sorrows.

Kabe-sensei could be glad indeed, for it seemed no-one else had fallen ill, which was a great success. Doctor kept emphasizing it was all thanks to Bontenmaru's and Kagetsuna's clear-headedness since they had sought help from him so quickly and didn't cease praising them, while Kagetsuna kept thanking Amida Buddha for bringing the doctor to Yonezawa-jō in time. Otherwise, the castle would have experienced a rout that no enemy of the Date would ever call down.

In the third week of their stay in the pavilion, Bontenmaru's rash started to decline: the scabs slowly fell off, like scales of fish or dragon. Kabe-sensei ordered to carefully collect them, for the plague was still lying in them. First, they fell off the face, and Kagetsuna didn't let even a blink reveal how much he was shocked by the sight of scars they left: deep erosions in the skin, on forehead, nose and cheeks, around the lips and eyes. Everywhere where the pimples had been, and the pimples had been everywhere. It looked as if someone had taken off the outer layer of the body, riddled all over and then put on back.

Kagetsuna was unable to look at the boy for long. That was the appearance the future lord of the Date was to spend the rest of his life with? It seemed just too cruel. To him, Bontenmaru was Bontenmaru, and Kagetsuna knew it would never change, but what would others say once they saw him? When they compared his present face with the one they were accustomed to - maybe not so lovely like Jikumaru's, but undoubtedly pleasant? Kagetsuna could only hope that, with time, the scars would fade, but Kabe-sensei shook his head, and it was the sufficient answer.

Finally, all the scabs fell off, in the late afternoon of the last day of September. There wasn't any - they examined it thoroughly - and only Kabe-sensei's opinion was lacking. Bontenmaru was sitting in front of Kagetsuna, very solemn. He felt completely healthy. He recovered. He survived. Time of torment came to en end. All in all, they really could be happy - if Bontenmaru had paid for his life with his looks, it couldn't be helped. In Kagetsuna's eyes, he was the most beautiful human being in the world, and it would remain unchanged even if he had grown horns or tail.

"So, how are you feeling?" Kagetsuna asked, trying to naturally interrupt the strange silence that had fallen.

Bontenmaru blinked. He lifted his hand in front of his face and moved it from left to right, frowning. Then he turned his head right and left. Kagetsuna was observing it, puzzled. Bontenmaru closed one eye and then the other, too, and finally looked at him.

"I think I can't see."

Now Kagetsuna blinked. He didn't understand what the boy meant. He was looking at him and seeing him, wasn't he?

"What do you mean you can't see?"

"When I close my left eye, I can't see anything with the right one."

Kagetsuna was under the impression that he had heard wrongly. That he had misheard. That, in fact, Bontenmaru had said something else.

"What?" he uttered.

The boy gave him a serious look and then nodded.

"Since when?" Kagetsuna forced himself to ask and was amazed by the fact the words indeed left his mouth. Suddenly, he felt as if there was a precipice under his feet.

"Since I had those blisters in my eyes, I think," Bontenmaru replied in a strangely careless voice. "You told my eye-lids were swollen, so I thought it was the reason. And then I probably got accustomed..."

Kagetsuna was only sitting. Thousands of thoughts swirled in his head, each of them denying what the future lord of the Date had just said. No, it just couldn't be possible. His mind obstinately refused to accept that...

"I'll call Sensei," he whispered with dumb lips, getting up.

Bontenmaru nodded again, following him with his gaze.

Kabe-sensei checked the boy and his eyes, and then took his time to examine him. He instructed to follow his finger he moved in front of the boy's face. He brought the candle closer and tested the light reflex. In various ways he attempted to confirm or exclude... Kagetsuna didn't say anything, only carefully observed the doctor's every move, clenching his fists and feeling the nails dig in. In the end, Kabe-sensei went pale and kept silent for a longer while, and when he finally spoke Kagetsuna was under the impression that he was falling down that precipice, edge of it he had been standing for some time now.

Everything indicated that Bontenmaru had lost his sight in the right eye.

And he himself appeared the least perturbed by this. He took a deep breath, smoothed out his robe and then looked at them, as if he was surprised by the silence. The dinner was served, but Kagetsuna forced himself to eat anything only for the boy's sake. In the end, the bowl he put aside was only half-emptied because his throat felt like clogged up. Bontenmaru must have sensed the change in mood, for he seemed more and more crestfallen every minute, especially that the meal passed without anyone saying a word. Soon, they went to bed.

Kagetsuna waited until he was certain the boy had drifted to sleep. Before, he had managed to wish him good-night, and his tone had sounded convincing even in his ears. Moving as quietly as possible, he left to the garden; still, he managed to trip over something, not seeing clearly where he was setting his feet. The first-quarter moon gave enough light, but before his eyes everything was blurred. Walking almost blindly, he reached the farthest part of the garden and there, in the corner made by the wall, he shrank, pressed his face against knees and burst out crying.

All the feeling that had been swirling inside him from the moment Kabe-sensei, in impassive words, had passed sentence on Bontenmaru, squeezing and choking so that he couldn't speak since he hadn't trusted his own voice, were now tearing loose in the sobs he wasn't able to control and in tears that made their way between his eye-lids, regardless of how hard he tried to keep them shut. He didn't think of anything and simply surrendered to that overwhelming sadness that was shaking his body and wouldn't leave. He felt like a man who was deprived of the last hope. And he wasn't even mourning for himself.

Much time had passed before his sobbing subsided and his body ceased writhing convulsively - and before he managed to focus on any thought. He was sitting, hunched, arms around his head, and his head in pain. Sniffing. His face, he didn't want to show even to the patient moon, swollen. And he didn't feel better at all, only more and more miserable.

It was too dreadful.

It was too cruel.

It was too unfair.

Kagetsuna couldn't comprehend how fate could so severely try the innocent child. One could almost believe Bontenmaru was really damned by the gods - but it was not what the Doctrine said. Did Buddha put him to the test to toughen him? Kagetsuna was unable to convince himself it was necessary. The boy had suffered enough even before their first encounter, many days and months already. His mother had disliked him and used the first opportunity to send him away. Growing to become a ruler, he hadn't been shown any affection to. And when it had appeared he had finally learned how to smile again, he had been stricken yet another time: with a disease that, in the end, hadn't managed to take his life, but in return left him maimed for ever.

Kagetsuna couldn't be happy with the fact that Bontenmaru had lived. All the joy had disappeared like a blown out candle in the face of harm done to the boy. Had Jizō really protected him? Had Kannon been truly merciful? Had Amida Buddha done anything else than looking from somewhere up high with his all-knowing eyes? And where had been Fudō Myō-ō, deity of - oh irony - eye diseases? If Kagetsuna had ever had a grudge against the gods, it was this time. He felt as if the gods had really turned their backs on them. And he felt that for Bontenmaru, for Masamune-sama, for a person that was his brother, master and reason to live, he himself could turn against gods.

The pain in his chest didn't ease up. Kagetsuna felt as if it was going to continue forever.

Along with the overpowering sense of guilt.

The shiver ran through his body.

Because, in the end, it was so easy to pin a blame on the gods and give the responsibility to others. However, now there was no escape from the truth, and the truth was only one and simple, and even though he had resisted it with all his might for the last month, he had to accept it now. It was his conceit and exaggerated ambitions that had led to the disaster and exposed Bontenmaru to everything he had gone through. No-one else and nothing else. He wanted to protect and support him. He wanted to serve and help him. He wanted to guide him to greatness and follow him into the bright future. In fact, he had brought the boy suffering - and it pained him a hundred times more. His action had denied all that determined the honour of a samurai, and he wasn't even a samurai yet.

He was under the impression his path had ended on the edge of a precipice. There was nowhere to set a foot, but he couldn't turn back either.

He had no strength left to return to the pavilion that night. He stayed under the moon and in the shadow cast by the ginkgo trees.

* * *

The next day Kabe-sensei decided Bontenmaru could go back. The boy was given new clothes, and his hair was done, but he didn't appear as happy as he should be in such a situation. He was quiet and almost apathetic. The bright look that had been lighting his face for the last few days - since it had been certain he had recovered - was gone now. In fact, he didn't seem to enjoy the oncoming meeting with his parents at all.

Kagetsuna could understand it: Bontenmaru might still remember the circumstances he had parted with mother in, and father could possibly become quite distant during that month. Besides... What kind of welcome he might have expected? Kagetsuna's and Kabe-sensei's reactions to the news of sight loss must have made him think, even if he had yet to grasp the seriousness of disability or consider it a burden. That reaction had emphatically showed him that the matter wasn't trivial and couldn't be waved aside. Even if he couldn't imagine the concrete attitude and behaviour, he surely expected nothing pleasant was coming.

"Get well quickly, Kojūrō," he said, quite low-spirited, but Kagetsuna knew that only yesterday such words would have warmed his heart.

Now, he merely nodded, almost out of habit. Bontenmaru was sitting motionless, hands folded on his lap and eyes fixed on the mat. It seemed to Kagetsuna that the boy had much to say, but somewhere inside him was hope that Bontenmaru wouldn't say anything. That he would leave to his world and continue living - in the manner it was possible - among the people he should be with.

But the boy didn't move from the spot; besides, Kabe-sensei had yet to come back. The doctor had gone to see the daimyo and Yoshihime and prepare them, for he couldn't simply bring the boy before them, so disfigured.

"Kojūrō...?"

"Yes, Masamune-sama?" Kagetsuna replied, automatically again.

"I'd like..." the boy started, his fingers clutching the fabric. He paused and then started again, "I'd like to... look in the mirror."

Kagetsuna stared at him, his mind swirling chaotically. Look in the mirror? What for? Why now? Could he not wait longer? Or not bother himself with it at all?

"Please," the boy said, lifting his entreating eyes on Kagetsuna.

Kagetsuna nodded, chasing away all thoughts. There was a mirror in Kabe-sensei's room, he had seen it before. All it took was to get up and bring it... yet no-other task seemed so difficult and required such a great effort. Bontenmaru swallowed hard and clenched his tiny fists. Kagetsuna returned with a mirror and sat down next to him, silent; he wasn't sure if his words wouldn't do even more wrong. Bontenmaru took the mirror from his hands, mustered his courage for a moment and then looked.

He flinched visibly - but it was all. He didn't cry out. He didn't sigh. He didn't say anything. He kept looking at his reflection, while Kagetsuna was looking at his profile: cheek, temple and jaw, all covered with countless pits, and his right eye that, he had already noticed, didn't reflect the light like the left did, and its surface was tarnished. He lowered his head, but quickly raised it again. Masamune-sama deserved the respect and reverence to the bitter end.

"Like Fudō Myō-ō," the boy spoke, still gazing at what the mirror mercilessly revealed. "I'm scary like Fudō Myō-ō."

He even managed to smile with his trembling lips. Slowly, he put the mirror aside, upside down, his move overly elegant, the calm of it incommensurate to the situation. He set his jaw, tried to control himself...

He couldn't. He turned to Kagetsuna and pressed the face against his chest, sobbing hopelessly. Kagetsuna embraced him and gathered to himself as tight as he could.

He would cry along with him if, after the last night, he'd still had any tears left and if there had still been heart in the emptiness of his chest.


	13. Chapter 13

**~13~**  
**Shadow**

* * *

Bontenmaru left, and Kagetsuna stayed alone with his disease. Kabe-sensei, as if having sensed his patient's sudden loneliness, dropped in to see him more often - not only to examine him - but Kagetsuna received his visits listlessly. He barely spoke, immersed in the world of his thought and feelings. Some part of his mind must have appreciated the doctor's attitude, but he wasn't able to answer to it at all neither show any gratitude. He had grown indifferent to anything, ceased paying attention to what was around him, and his reality narrowed to the sense of guild he couldn't - didn't want to - escape even for a moment.

He had failed them all: his father, his lord - and himself, too, but this was of the least significance. Now he could only reproach himself for conceit and insubordination. He had been aware of what he had been doing, all the time. If he had been dumb, there would be no help for it. If he had been depraved, it would be some explanation, too. But he wasn't either dumb nor depraved. He had received fine education and wanted to live so that he could be of service to those he had his duties to. However, in some inscrutable way, everything good he had wished for had turned bad. What a disappointment it would be for his father. The only son, brought up to become a samurai and even serving at the court of daimyo, was such a let-down. Also Lord Terumune must have felt as if he had nursed a viper in his own bosom. He had made Kagetsuna an honour and made him his servant; he had showed favour and planned Kagetsuna's future - and how had Kagetsuna repaid him?

_Be obedient; do as you are told,_ such were the first and foremost precepts of a son and a samurai. Yet, he had decided to do the things his way. Instead of studying under Master Kosai's guidance, like he had been commanded to do by his father, he had fancied to be fit for a teacher himself - a teacher for a son of daimyo, on top of that. How could he ever have dared such impudence? He must have been possessed by some demon. No, he couldn't shift the responsibility on others. On the other hand, if he had been possessed indeed, it would have meant solely his heart wasn't pure enough to become a samurai. Either way, the matter was clear.

But, even if plunged into complete despondency and laden with burden of blame, heavier than anyone else could have weighted him with, he couldn't left unnoticed what was the worst thing. The list of his offences was long, as long as the list of people he had committed them against: father, daimyo and the heir to the Date. In the end, however, what weighed upon his conscience and his heart most was the fact he had harmed Bontenmaru, the boy and his brother. What he couldn't forgive himself most was the fact it was Bontenmaru he had caused pain and eventually brought to disability. He had been with him; had seen with his own eyes what the boy had been force to experience for many days. Every indication of Bontenmaru's suffering had pierced his heart, too. Once he had realized the boy would survive, he had managed to convince himself that all bad had been past them and the time of joy had come. How naive - and how wicked. He had been aware all the time he was the one in the wrong, yet he had been under the illusion that he would escape punishment. If only he had stayed away from Bontenmaru, that time in Ungan-ji. If he had left the boy alone with his life and taken care of his own. If he had not insisted that the boy should meet other people, even if the village children... A son of daimyo had deserved more respect, yet Katakura Kagetsuna had showed him none.

He couldn't possibly have behaved more despicably.

Still, he didn't know why it was the little boy who had to pay the most. Kagetsuna would gladly give both his eyes and arms and legs if only it could bring back what Bontenmaru had lost. But it just wasn't possible. He couldn't do absolutely anything - except for one: wipe away at least part of his guilt with sacrifice of his life.

Kabe-sensei, who had been remaining in good mood since Bontenmaru's recovery, grew troubled again. Kagetsuna started to run fever, and, although he had been enduring the disease well so far, now the doctor really feared for his life. The youth ceased eating, and forcing some water upon him was almost impossible. He either lay down in silence, motionless on his bed, staring at the ceiling or the wall, or was shivering and delirious. Later, he had a hazy recollection of the doctor speaking to him often and trying to persuade him to do something, but the content of those monologues was beyond his grasp. He couldn't even remember his dreams from that time.

After few days, when he woke up from delirium - very weak and confused - and Kabe-sensei told him the danger was over, he only thought, "Is that so?" On one hand he was disappointed that the death had walked past him, leaving him alive - the doctor informed him that Mizuki-san had surrendered to the disease and died two days earlier - when he didn't really deserve to live any more. But it would have been too easy, he realized bitterly. Besides, something in his soul objected to such solution. He didn't really deserve anything better - and those who once had been close to him wouldn't have bothered with it and quickly forgotten about him since there was nothing to tell the tales about; still... he was a son of samurai, and it obliged.

And, somewhere under all those layers of feelings that swirled in his head was one and only thought, smaller than light of a single candle: one more time - one last time - he wanted to see Bontenmaru. See his Masamune-sama.

Many days had passed before Kabe-sensei decided Kagetsuna had recovered and could go back to the people. It appeared no-one else had fallen ill, which meant the plague in Yonezawa-jō had been nipped in the bud. One of its victims had left on the Buddha's bosom, second was left scarred for the rest of his life, and the third had been lucky to get out on the cheap - and wasn't happy about it at all. Kagetsuna's gaze remained indifferent when he saw his mirror image: few scars on his cheeks and forehead, and it was all.

* * *

It was the second half of October when Kagetsuna stood in the entrance to the garden and took a deep breath. He hadn't left this place since almost two months. Would he have enough courage to meet with people again? He held back a snort. He would bear anything they would ever imagine to do to him. He felt he could, right now, face even Lady Yoshihime and hear her accusations and curses. In fact, he realized, they would be much easier to withstand than any reproaches from Lord Terumune.

Against himself, he turned back and looked at the white pavilion deep in the garden. It was there, as immovable as the castle, and kept all secrets to itself. Kagetsuna hoped it wouldn't be needed any more, but he was a realist. Kabe-sensei had said it wasn't the last plague in Yonezawa-jō. But, it no longer concerned him...

Air was crisp, nothing like he remembered from the warm days of summer. Trees started to put their autumn dress on, and the glimpses of fire were to be seen here and there, in place of the soothing green. Hollyhocks had furled their heads, sensing not only autumn, but winter as well, and winter used to arrive here stealthily. Kagetsuna was under the impression as if whole weeks had vanished from his life... and resisted the desire to relish every day twice as much from now on.

Despite his numbness, he was surprised at the sight of a figure approaching him. He realized he had grown unaccustomed to seeing people, especially in last days when Kabe-sensei was his only companion. Still, he recognized the man at once, and hence his surprise. It was Endō Motonobu making his way to meet him, his moves ever marked by that particular self-confidence and pride.

They bowed to each other with courtesy. "Katakura-san, I am glad to see you again," Endō-dono began formally. "No sooner than yesterday, Kabe-sensei brought word about your recovery. Terumune-sama has authorized me to welcome you and pass on his message to you."

Kagetsuna blinked. Before, he might have been slightly surprised upon seeing the samurai, but now the man's words... well, maybe not confused, by surely perplexed him. The daimyo had sent one of his retainers to Katakura Kagetsuna and had something to say to him?

Ah, Kagetsuna shrank inwardly. Lord Terumune must have decided he wouldn't stoop to talking with the villain that had brought misfortune upon his son and his house... The youth swallowed. "Endō-dono?" he asked hesitantly.

"We will not talk here. Let us go to my quarters," the man declared.

Kagetsuna nodded, suddenly speechless. It had seemed to him he had grown indifferent to everything, yet the meeting with Terumune-sama's trusted subject had almost thrown him off balance. He followed Endō-dono, fixing his eyes on the ground and looking at no-one, until they founded themselves in the eastern wing of the castle. The samurai ordered the tea to be served and showed Kagetsuna a place the youth humbly took. Only now did he dare to raise his eyes and have a look around. The room was furnished modestly and tastefully. In alcove stood a statue of Hachiman, and opposite to it hung a calligraphy writing of "loyalty". Kagetsuna regarded it for a while and then averted his guilty gaze.

Endō-dono was staring at him attentively, silent, and Kagetsuna was under the impression the samurai treated him with reserve. Then he remembered that reserve was an integral part of the man's conduct and didn't mean that the samurai wasn't sure whether or not Kagetsuna had really recovered and it was safe to associate with him.

"Terumune-sama is currently away from Yonezawa-jō," the man spoke, shaking Kagetsuna out of his reverie.

The daimyo was away? Then, he must have given Endō-dono instructions earlier... What could it mean? Kagetsuna didn't have time to ponder on it since the man was going on.

"The ceremony of Bontenmaru-sama's birthday will take place on the fifth day of the next month. It was, of course, postponed," he added in case it remained unclear. "Terumune-sama wishes that your genpuku will be held at the same time."

Kagetsuna blinked. He thought he had misheard. He must have heard wrongly. After all, it was more likely that Terumune-sama wished for his execution.

"Forgive me, Endō-dono," he uttered. "Could you please repeat?"

The man set his lips tight, but it didn't seem he was angry. "It was decided that the celebration of Bontenmaru-sama's birthday is postponed until you recover," he said patiently. "Terumune-sama wishes that, on this occasion, you are given the swords and resume your service to the Date family."

Kagetsuna felt dizzy. He tried to collect his thoughts, which wasn't easy at all. He took some deep breaths and clenched his fists to contain himself when emotions clutched at his throat. He didn't know what to focus on.

"Katakura-kun...?"

"I beg your forgiveness, Endō-dono," Kagetsuna's voice was hoarse.

"It is me to apologize," the samurai hurried to reply. "I didn't expect it to be such a shock to you. I didn't take account of the fact you have only recently recuperated."

Kagetsuna shook his head. He couldn't let the samurai of Endō Motonobu's position feel guilty about him, regardless of the reason.

"Drink your tea," the man added somewhat awkwardly, as if wanting to defuse a situation.

Kagetsuna took his advice and started to sip the hot brew, ordering himself calm. Why would the daimyo... Why would Lord Terumune show him such a favour? Because it looked like this - and the youth couldn't understand it, which evoked conflicting feelings in him. Kagetsuna struggled with the desire to give in to the joy, accept yet another act of kindness of daimyo - may Buddha always guide him - and praise him to his dying day... But, at the same time, something in him shrank from believing in such a happiness.

Or, maybe... Maybe Lord Terumune, for the reason only he knew, wanted to publicly honour him and then... do away with him on the quiet?

Kagetsuna twitched. No, it was so very unlike Lord Terumune. How could he ever think about it?

Still...

"I heard it matters much to Bontenmaru-sama," Endō-dono spoke. "That is, your genpuku."

Kagetsuna felt his hair stand on end. What if Terumune-sama wanted to please his son, and this underlay his, so shocking at least for Kagetsuna, behaviour? Even now, Kagetsuna couldn't doubt Bontenmaru's dedication to him any more and he could imagine the boy asking his father...

His chest pained.

He raised his head and looked despairingly at Endō-dono.

Even if there was nothing he wanted more than follow them both, Terumune and Masamune, he knew he was not allowed. His path was only one.

Endō-dono observed him, frowning. "You do not seem happy, Katakura-kun," he said outright. "What troubles you? Are you perhaps worrying that your father would not give his consent?" he guessed. "Do not be concerned about it. Terumune-sama has written to Katakura-san about his wish."

Kagetsuna shook his head, as if he tried to sober himself. "I would like to pay my father a visit and ask him in person," he spoke once he was sure he could trust his voice.

"But of course. It is a custom," Endō-dono agreed immediately. "Terumune-sama has expected it. He requests that your father arrives in the castle, so you will come together. He is aware of Katakura-san's duties in Kaneyama, but hopes he will manage to reconcile them with such a solemn event."

To tell the truth, Kagetsuna felt it was all the same to him. He had already planned to go to Kaneyama and beg his father on his knees for consent to undergo a genpuku. What form the ceremony would have didn't matter to him in the slightest. He only wanted to become a samurai and be able to fully decide for himself.

And then everything would be over.

"I thank you for your kindness, Endō-dono," he said, bowing deeply. "Terumune-sama shows me far too great honour," he added, amazed at how easily the complimentary closes were coming out of his lips, even though he hadn't used them for so long. "I shall go to my father and obtain his blessing that, I believe, he would give. I also trust he will come to Yonezawa-jō to witness how his son becomes a man."

Endō-dono replied with a short nod, although seemed somewhat surprised at the sudden change in Kagetsuna's voice and speech. Well, he might put in down on the late disease... Kagetsuna didn't really care about it.

Endō-dono bid him farewell soon; he had never been talkative or expansive, so dealing with him used to be restricted to the matters he came with - or he was being approached with. Kagetsuna decided there was no use delaying more. He felt strong enough to ride to Kaneyama. It was still early, the noon was yet to come - if he left now, he would reach Kaneyama by the evening of the next day.

Crossing the courtyard, he hesitated... He came to a halt and raised his eyes at the main building, only afterwards realizing he was looking out for the familiar face in the cloisters and windows. He set his jaw and turned back, heading for the stables.

Shortly, he was bowling north, leaving Yonezawa behind - only to return here one more time. Chestnut was bursting forwards, eager for moving after such a long stay in the stables, so they covered the first stage at full speed. Kagetsuna didn't pay attention to the surroundings, focused on his goal ahead. Quite soon he became aware that he had overestimated his strength, and was forced to slow down. He stayed the night in Murayama and resumed his journey in the morning. Late in the afternoon he spotted the peaks of Yakushiyama and, more eastwards, Ryūba-san and Taihei, their tops bathed in the red of setting sun. Sight of the small village tucked in the foothills warmed his heart for a while. He didn't let himself stay in this feeling, though, only led Chestnut onto the balk that ran around the settlement. Riding between the fields, the last harvest cropped from them, he recalled the summer work among the patches of turnip and radish. It had been a happy time...

Like always, father appeared in the yard imperceptibly. His steps still seemed the steps of a soldier who had passed into many battlefields and knew sometimes it paid better to be wary rather than spectacular - and it didn't clash with a honour of a samurai. Kagetsuna was stroking Chestnut's muzzle and whispering his thanks for the journey, while Kagenaga was simply leaning against the door-frame and saying nothing.

Finally, Kagetsuna turned to him - and saw, for the first time in his life, his father went pale. He lowered his head.

He knew what shocked that tough man, although he didn't show it any other way than setting his jaw. Kagetsuna remembered what the mirror had showed him; it didn't matter for him, but it could matter for his father. Sunken cheeks, eyes in the dark hollows, tarnished hair. He had lost weight, and the clothes hung loose on him. And he knew that the light of the dusk didn't reveal even half of it... Suddenly, he was grateful to father for this reaction; it proved that Katakura Kagenaga, in the depth of his heart, cared for his son, even if he didn't display it in everyday life.

In fact, Kagetsuna had never doubted father love.

And then he realized it was even harder for him that way...

"Good evening, father. Again, I-"

"And I'm again saying it is your house and you have every right to be here," Kagenaga interrupted him. His deep voice rang with usual composure, and it seemed he had already contained himself.

"I'll take care of Chestnut," Kagetsuna said like many times before, as if nothing had happened, and took the horse to the stable.

When unsaddling him, he kept wondering if father knew about him having been ill and about what had happened in Yonezawa-jō at all. Oh, he certainly did. Terumune-sama must have explained why the ceremony of Bontenmaru's birthday was postponed. It was too great departure from the custom.

Had father been worrying about him? Had he feared to lose his only son? Kagetsuna froze when the thought occurred to him, and only after a while did he resume grooming the horse. Well, he would be an adult man soon, and even his father would no longer have any power over him.

Actually, it had nothing to do with any power, he realized afterwards; still, he kept brushing away the thought that his plans could hurt his father in any way.

Hot soup and tea awaited him when he returned to the house. Hungry and thirsty after the ride, he was eating quietly, paying no attention to the taste. Father kept silent, too, looking at him and drinking his tea. There was nothing strange to his behaviour, yet Kagetsuna had never before felt it so difficult to start the conversation. But, he urged himself, there was nothing to fear any more.

He thanked for the meal and put the chopstick aside. "You must know what has happened in Yonezawa-jō, father," he began quite cautiously, yet in a very matter-of-fact way of the Katakura.

Kagenaga nodded. "You didn't manage to escape the disease after all," he said outright, and Kagetsuna felt his insides twisted involuntarily.

"We didn't. The disease afflicted both me and Bontenmaru-sama."

"But you've both survived," Kagenaga pointed out, and well-concealed satisfaction rang in his voice.

"One of the servants died," Kagetsuna added, feeling that Mizuki-san's death was still something abstract.

"She became one of the holy spirits. You will be able to always feel her around."

In normal circumstances, Kagetsuna would surely inquire whether or not it was something that desirable, but now such a thought didn't even occur his mind. For a moment, he only stared at his father - at that calm man who had always seen more than others since he was looking in the other world, too - and then bowed his head.

"Honourable father, I came before you with a humble request. As a son, I beg you, my father, to give your assent and let me enter the adulthood," he put quietly, suddenly feeling the importance of what he was saying.

Kagenaga was silent. Kagetsuna didn't dare to raise his head and, to tell the truth, he knew he would stay like this until he heard his father's answer. He didn't have to wait long, though.

"I give my assent," Kagenaga replied simply. Even if his voice lacked some solemnity, Kagetsuna didn't bother himself with it, relishing at the feeling of relief that surged him.

"Thank you, father," he said, bowing even deeper, and then straightened up.

"Terumune-sama insisted," Kagenaga added, but it didn't ruin the moment, for he quickly said, "But it's not the reason behind it. I waited until you felt you were ready."

Kagetsuna opened his eyes. Could it be possible? Had father been really thinking it? In that case, he might as well waited many years... How had father got hold of such an idea? All of the sudden, Kagetsuna felt he was getting angry. It was a custom that parents were those who decided when their son deserved to enter an adulthood. He had wasted so much time...

_Enough,_ he rebuked himself. _If you're seeing it this way, it only means you still don't deserve that adulthood._ He remembered his deliberations from the summertime. Had he felt, even once, he had been ready? Or was it rather that he had wandered about in doubts and uncertainty and felt there was still a long way ahead of him? He knew which answer was true.

Now he did feel that he wanted, had to, was ready to become a samurai. Now there was no other way.

Besides...

If father hadn't sent him to Ungan-ji, he would have never met Bontenmaru. Even if, in the end, their meeting one another hadn't brought the boy anything good, for him it remained the brightest and most wonderful experience in his life, worth paying the highest price for.

"Thank you, father, for your trust," he spoke quietly. "I have always wanted to meet your expectations and do you credit," he added, and his voice didn't even waver.

Kagenaga was observing him closely, and it appeared to Kagetsuna he was looking right into his heart, as if he suspected there was more behind the words.

"It seems to me you have still something to ask," he said finally, and there was no hesitation in his tone.

Kagetsuna gave him a confused look, not really knowing what father was referring to. Still something to ask? What more he could ask for? Had he not be given enough already? His father's trust, the daimyo's recognition, and the little boy's...

"Father, I would like you to approve the name my master has chosen for me," the words left his mouth irrespective of his will.

Surprise flickered in Kagenaga's eyes, but his voice remained calm, "Let us hear it."

Kagetsuna swallowed. He didn't want it, but warmth spread all over his body regardless. "Kojūrō."

Kagenaga mused. "Kojūrō... Katakura Kojūrō," he repeated, just like Kagetsuna some weeks earlier. Involuntarily, Kagetsuna felt like smiling. The two of them were indeed alike. "It's a good name," Kagenaga decided. "Strong and solid. It's fit to be my son's name," he finished, and for some reason it sounded awkwardly, but Kagetsuna didn't mean to care about it.

He lowered his gaze, for suddenly he wasn't able to look at father. It was this awkwardness that made Kagenaga's words sound like a confession - admitting that he held the fate of his son dear and that being a father meant a lot to him. Kagetsuna wondered... Suddenly he realized had become overly sensitive... and was moved by many things... Like father's words now... It was strange. He had thought it to be the contrary. He had thought his heart to lose all ability to feel...

"Would you mind going with me to Sakegawa?" Kagenaga's voice shook him out of reverie. "Shinbu-san has fallen ill, while the local holiday approaches, and there is no-one to perform a rite... Or, rather, do you have enough of travelling for the time being...?"

Kagetsuna shook his head. "No, father. I will gladly accompany you."

"Good, then. And tomorrow you're going to meet our new miko," Kagenaga added, pleased.

"Father..."

"Do not worry. We will arrive in Yonezawa-jō on time," was the calm response.

Kagenaga got up, giving a sign they were done talking. Kagetsuna nodded and rose, too, wishing his father goodnight.

He didn't have to say anything, for father seemed to know it anyway. Realizing it now filled him with peace and unease at the same time.


	14. Chapter 14

**~14~**  
**Moon scars**

* * *

They arrived in Yonezawa-jō in the eve of the celebration. They had borrowed a horse from Yasuo and set out on a journey that had passed very quietly. Kagetsuna wondered when was the last time they had travelled together - the recent trip to Sakegawa excluded - and came to the conclusion it must have been when he had left to Zuigan-ji to study under Master Shōkei's guidance. So many years ago... Now, he was realizing again how pleasant it was to ride alongside his father. They didn't talk much - and if they did, then only on normal, every-day matters, and it was good, too. Father was like always, firm and self-assured in everything he was doing. In his company, Kagetsuna was slowly regaining peace and became more confident about his decision. Now, more than ever before, the youth was grateful to that man for having always kept himself at a distance; it would be much harsher to Kagetsuna if the bond they shared was more intense and deeper. He had one like this in his life - it would be enough for many lives - and knew its meaning even if he could never put it into words.

It was but for that bond that he was now going to Yonezawa to end his life.

He wasn't afraid. Of course he wasn't. He even, with unconcern that was so untypical of him, presumed that technically everything would go smoothly, too. He was somewhat familiar with the procedure, and he would certainly be given the detailed instruction. He had to succeed since, in case he didn't... He went pale. In case he didn't, he would lose even that last of the honour he still had. His hands clutched at the reins. No, everything would be all right. After all, it really wasn't that complicated: to cut your belly open.

The summer had definitely ended. When Kagetsuna had been riding that way two weeks earlier, the nature had been already gold and aflame, but the days, filled with gentle warmth of the sunlight, had created the illusion that the cloak of summer had been long and its end had been yet to be seen. In the meantime, the autumn had begun, along with rain and wind, with clouds and cold. The snowfall in the higher mountains made it cold in the valleys as well. If it wasn't raining, then it was drizzling, and when the melody of drops falling down muffled all other sounds, it seemed there was no-one else in the world but the two of them. Kagetsuna didn't like this feeling. The cause for it could be the sense of belonging to a group, so typical of the society he lived in, inculcated into him since he had been a little child, that way or another. He had always been surrounded by people, many people, that he was connected to. It was something natural. Or, it could be that he simply had bad memories of his recent isolation in the small pavilion, where he couldn't quite get rid of the feeling of total solitude.

The weather didn't get any better. When they passed onto the plain and the castle of Yonezawa appeared before their eyes, the scenery was dominated by the greyness. Against the leaden clouds, the high building seemed only a shade lighter. The dark green of the spruces was dull and deprived of its normal intensity. Other trees were already losing their leaves; the red and orange had disappeared somewhere, while the yellow was tainted and subdued. Usually, when looking from the plain, one could see all the way to the southern mountains; now, however, the damp fog enshrouded everything, and only silhouettes of slender conifers emerged here and there from the thick mist.

Inside the walls, however, they were greeted by the lively atmosphere, denying what the weather tried to impose. In fact, when travelling the high-road, they had noticed the increased traffic. Carriages, processions, single riders - all had been heading towards Yonezawa-jō, most of them for the second time already, summoned by the daimyo. The courtyard was filled with bustle that Kagetsuna would call cheerful if the circumstances were different. Some were greeting each other, others were giving instructions to their companions, and someone else was demanding the best place for his mount in the stables. The servants of Yonezawa-jō coped with the situation, and reception of the guests went without greater complications. After all, they worked at the court of a daimyo and couldn't afford any blunders or negligence.

Endō Motonobu appeared in the courtyard just when Kagenaga and Kagetsuna got off their horses. He must have sent his page or adjutant to look out for them and inform him immediately of the Katakura's arrival. He welcomed Kagenaga warmly, exchanged greetings with Kagetsuna and then led them both to the assigned rooms. Kagetsuna looked around and couldn't but notice the festive décor of the chambers and corridors. Here as well, the servants were busy with work. Yonezawa-jō seemed completely different than when Kagetsuna had seen it the last time - and the prevailing mood was different, too. It seemed more solemn and... full of excitement.

"Katakura-kun," Endō-dono turned to him once they entered the room. "I view your coming here as an obedience to Terumune-sama," he said, and Kagetsuna wasn't sure whether it was meant as a praise or not.

"Obedience to the daimyo is my privilege," he replied since he didn't know what else should he say.

Still, Endō-dono seemed pleased, for he nodded with approval. "As you are aware, the celebration of Bontenmaru-sama's fifth birthday will commence tomorrow, in the hour of the Snake," he informed without further ado. "Welcoming the guest along with paying homage to the daimyo and his successor will last until noon, and then the meal will be served. Afterwards, the ceremony of your genpuku will take place."

Kagetsuna kept silent. Despite his relentless despondency, what the samurai had said moved him, although only a moment after did he realized what had evoked the greatest emotions, and not pleasant. "Endō-dono..." he started - and paused. Then he swallowed hard and began again, his voice still quiet and hesitant, "Forgive that I ask... My genpuku... is not going to be held in the presence of everybody, is it?" The very thought of such a performance in front of hundreds of guests from all over the domain, if not the province, didn't quite encourage him.

"Do not worry, Katakura-kun," the man reassured him. "Only the daimyo along with his family and closest retainers will be present. Of course, if anyone else wishes to join, they are welcomed. Though I doubt they do, especially after such a feast," he added with a shocking, for him, frankness.

The daimyo, his family and retainers... Well, it didn't sound that bad. One could say that only acquaintances, Kagetsuna decided with some irony. The more he thought about it, the more convinced he became that he would be perfectly all right with a genpuku in Kaneyama, with Kisshō and Yasuo being the only guests; but, since he had already consented, he had no choice. And, to tell the truth, it was the daimyo who had decided for him... Besides, it wasn't that important in the end.

Speaking of the daimyo... "Should I swear an oath of allegiance, or something of that kind?" he asked since the thought occurred to him.

For some reason, Endō-dono seemed disconcerted, although Kagetsuna didn't know what about his words might have caused it. "We will talk about it later," the samurai replied somewhat awkwardly and then stood up. "Once you've dined, I will have my son visit you. Munenobu will explain the ceremonial to you and tell about how we use to perform it in Yonezawa-jō. Please, ask him anything you want," he encouraged. "Katakura-san, I have got to have a word with you. If you could spare me a moment in the afternoon..."

Kagenaga nodded. "I'm fully at your disposal, Endō-san," he assured.

"Then, I will send my page for you," the samurai decided contentedly and took his leave.

Soon, the servant brought the meal. Even though he hadn't eaten since the early breakfast, Kagetsuna wasn't particularly hungry. The thought of the ceremony, being nothing more than an abstract so far, suddenly knotted his stomach. So it would happen tomorrow... The day he had been expecting for many months came unnoticed. The day he would start his life of a man. The most important day of his youth... He wished he could experience it the way it deserved: for his father - and for himself, in the first place. For daimyo who would be there, for all his prime samurai and for...

He lowered his head. There was nothing to fear. What demanded his courage would happen afterwards.

He realized that father had already finished eating and was now observing him with intent eyes. He set about emptying his bowl, although excellent dishes of Yonezawa almost stuck in his throat. He could only hope father would read his mood as, so understandable, nervousness before the tomorrow. Kagenaga didn't say anything, though, and Kagetsuna felt he was relaxing, to some extent. Father didn't use to have long conversations on serious matters with him, so there was no reason to assume he would start right now.

Indeed, after the meal Kagenaga asked merely, "Is there something you would like to talk with me about?" apparently referring to the topic of the genpuku and Kagetsuna's probable questions.

The youth shook his head. "No, father. I only thank you for your kindness."

Kagenaga was silent for a while, looking at him with his inscrutable eyes, and then simply put, "In that case, we will see each other tomorrow, son." Then he rose and left, while Kagetsuna cursed himself for the sudden feeling of loss and desertion that surged in him.

He didn't have time to wallow in thoughts, though. As soon as the servant cleaned up, aforesaid Endō Munenobu appeared. The name called forth a vague memory of the skinny teenager who had served at Yonezawa-jō about the time Kagetsuna had. But it was a tall man who now entered the room - still young, only few years older than Kagetsuna, but having an air of experience and confidence to him. He was someone Kagetsuna hadn't expected at all.

If his father seemed correctness, reserve and composure incarnated and never gave any other impression than that of a samurai devoted to serve his master, of this young man one could tell a very irrepressible personality at first glance. There was no doubt that correctness, reserve and composure weren't strange to him, but apparently he didn't find it necessary to show them at every step. His long hair, tied on the top of his head, were swinging with his every brisk move, and his eyes were flickering playfully. A slight smile didn't leave his from lips. Quite distracted, Kagetsuna thought that, compared to someone like this, he himself must have seemed a crude gloomy...

Munenobu bowed courtly, and only now did Kagetsuna realize he had again forgotten the etiquette. He jumped to his feet and deeply bent over. Indeed, his rudeness was a fact...

"Such a gymnastics is rather unhealthy," Munenobu stated, laughter in his words, sitting himself down comfortably on the mat.

Kagetsuna gave him a hesitant look from under his fringe, but the man only waved at him to take the opposite sit.

"I'm Endō Munenobu, in case it's not obvious," he announced and then tilted his head. "I think me might have already met..."

"I'm Katakura Kagetsuna," Kagetsuna introduced himself, coming to the quick conclusion that, even if the man's liveliness perplexed, it also made it surprisingly easy to relax in his presence. "I served Terumune-sama until the tenth year of Eiroku."

"Tenth of Eiroku? But it's the year when Bontenmaru-sama was born, may Dainichi Buddha always protect him. As well as the year of my genpuku, which took place not so long after," he added with a contented smile.

"You mean..."

"Terumune-sama likes to combine certain ceremonies with the birthday of his first-born, didn't you know?"

"Oh, so it's like this..." Kagetsuna held back the feeling of disappointment, evoked by the samurai's words.

"Speaking of what... My honourable father sent me to offer my help and introduce you to the secrets of the genpuku. How much do you know about it?"

"I... No... Well, actually nothing," Kagetsuna replied, quite embarrassed.

"When I recollect how I was feeling that time... I was completely terrified," Munenobu informed frankly, his voice somewhat dramatic. "Fortunately, Oniniwa Tsunamoto-san aided me in that crucible, and it's only thanks to him that I didn't make a fool of myself."

"Then... Is it easy to make a fool of myself?" Kagetsuna asked, aware he was probably doing it at the very moment.

"Not at all," Munenobu answered, laughing. "But you never know," he added, his eyes flickering. "Anyway, with me you have nothing to worry about, Kagetsuna-kun. I've decided to return a favour and do a service to the future generations of young men who find themselves in similar situation. You can count on me," he declared, proudly sticking out his chest.

Kagetsuna felt dizzy. Munenobu-san was apparently a talkative person, and his language was marked by irony and humour, which made it quite different to tell when he was serious and when he was joking. Kagetsuna was sure that at least the respect he seemed to have for Oniniwa Tsunamoto was completely genuine. Apart from this, the samurai made the impression of a man who approached everything and everyone - including himself - with a particular distance. To think that someone like him was a son of Endō Motonobu-dono...

"Father is always fretting about anything," Munenobu said, as if he had read Kagetsuna's mind. "In the end, I have never asked him if it was him who sent Tsunamoto-san to me, worrying that I could do something foolish and disgrace the family honour... Still, I'm very grateful to him," he went on, his voice very warm now. "Since then, we've had a very friendly relation with Tsunamoto-san..."

Kagetsuna kept silent. Munenobu-san's words rang with hope for a having friendly relation with him, too. He swallowed. If the circumstances were different, he would gladly accept such an offer. Munenobu-san undoubtedly seemed a person whose friendship Kagetsuna would hold dear, just like his father's...

"Old times," the samurai shook his head, as if trying to chase away the memories and focus on the present. "So you say you know nothing of the genpuku... Well, it's nothing complicated," he claimed carelessly.

"And... it means...?" Kagetsuna asked cautiously. He was afraid that Munenobu-san's cheerfulness might somewhat distort the reality. "I thought it's a whole ritual...?"

Munenobu-san waved his hand in rather disrespectful manner. "The preceding evening should be spent on prayers or meditation. Or both. In Yonezawa-jō, we have some places you can try to talk to gods in, if your room isn't enough for you." Kagetsuna nodded. It seemed to him he could still remember the distribution of the chapels in the castle... "Tomorrow, the servants will help you with clothes and hair," Munenobu-san continued. "My father mentioned your genpuku is going to take place after the feast, isn't it? All right. Well, you will be given the swords and new name, I believe you have already thought it up, and then you will go to the shrine of your patron kami."

"The shrine of my patron kami?"

"That is...?"

"Izanagi-no-mikoto."

"All the better. The castle shrine is dedicated to him," the samurai declared contented.

Kagetsuna was speechless. It really didn't sound that complicated, but... The shrine of his patron kami? What if it were someone else? Would it count at all, then? Apparently, the daimyo was of the opinion such matters were of less significance... Maybe the daimyo simply were like this...

Still... What if it were, for example, Tsukuyomi? As far as Kagetsuna could recall, the nearest shrine dedicated to the moon god was located in Yamagata...

"What is it that preoccupies you so much, Kagetsuna-kun?" the cheerful voice of Munenobu-san broke him out of his reverie.

"What if it were Tsukuyomi?" Kagetsuna blurted out before he realized it. Munenobu blinked confused. Kagetsuna lowered his eyes. "Forgive me, Munenobu-san..."

"Your father is a kannushi, isn't he?" the samurai asked thoughtfully. Kagetsuna nodded. "That explains a lot... We may attach quite little importance to the religion here... Maybe too little," he added, somewhat distracted. "But, just think, Kagetsuna-kun. You were born in Yonezawa, right? Your father wouldn't have chosen you a patron whose shrine wouldn't be here."

Now was the time for Kagetsuna to blink. Indeed... He had somehow missed it. Now he had really made a fool of himself.

"So, everything is just fine," Munenobu-san called happily, and his kind tone managed to cheer Kagetsuna up.

It was quite hard to feel dejected whenever in Endō Munenobu's company, he decided later and wasn't sure whether this thought consoled him or quite the contrary.

Long they talked - about upcoming celebration and other issues of the Date. Munenobu-san liked talking, so Kagetsuna, for the most part, remained silent, which suited him better. The time went by unnoticed, and Kagetsuna realized it only when the room started to get dark and the maid came to light the candles. He had taken the samurai many hours!

"Oho, I must have talked you to death, Kagetsuna-kun," the man stated suddenly before Kagetsuna managed to speak and apologize. "Time flies when you're in good company," he added with a smile.

"Munenobu-san..." Kagetsuna started and paused, not really knowing what to say.

"I hope I managed to calm you fears over tomorrow," the samurai put kindly.

"I do not fear," Kagetsuna disagreed, and he really thought it.

"Then you have stronger nerves than I do," Munenobu informed him with some irony. Kagetsuna lowered his head, ashamed. "But, it's only praiseworthy. After all, a samurai shouldn't fear," the man added, and, for some reason, Kagetsuna couldn't tell whether or not he was serious.

Munenobu rose, smoothed out his clothing and then tossed his hair back. For a while, he stood in spot and only looked at Kagetsuna. Finally, he said, "I'm glad you're going to join us. Lastly, my father has been very excited about it. For him," he added quickly when Kagetsuna began to come to the conclusion he just couldn't reconcile the word 'excited' with the person of Endō Motonobu. "He holds you in high esteem, and I think I know why."

Kagetsuna was unable to utter a word. How could he have earned such a reputation in Endō-dono? And in his son? Speaking with him, he had shown nothing to gain his recognition with. In his own opinion, he had presented himself as a gloomy who had nothing to say... Or, could it be that the disinterested kindness was in Endō Munenobu's nature?

"Then, Kagetsuna-kun," Munenobu-san said, "have a nice evening and a night, too. We will see each other tomorrow. I'll come for you and take you to the place of celebration."

"Goodbye, Munenobu-san," Kagetsuna replied, bowing his head.

Even if there was no reason for it, Kagetsuna accepted the amiability of the samurai with gratitude.

After the afternoon meal, as suggested by Munenobu-san, he went to look for a peaceful place to spiritually prepare himself for tomorrow's ceremony - or, rather, for starting a new stage in his life. He felt a pang of guilt. Taking into consideration the fact this stage would end before it really began, he couldn't devote himself to the prayers whole-heartedly, and it filled him with remorse. Meditation, however, didn't seem that bad idea; he hoped it would do him good and support his decision.

When crossing the torch-lit courtyard, where the last guests were being welcomed, he realized the weather had changed. The rain must have stopped some time ago; the ground was already dry, probably thanks to the southern wind blowing from the mountains. Kagetsuna raised his head and looked up, where the clouds were rolling by toward the north, every now and then revealing the black velvet of the sky. He let himself a cautious hope that tomorrow would be a sunny day. The heir to the family deserved the little joys.

Guided by intuition, he found a chamber that was perfectly suited for meditating - and in it, oh irony, an altar embossed with symbol of the moon. He had got to the place dedicated to aforesaid Tsukuyomi. He lit a candle and sat down on the floor, staring at the flame, its light casting the dancing shadows onto the walls.

He mused... Tsukuyomi, god of the moon and underworld. Maybe it wasn't an accident he had found himself here. After all, he was preparing for leaving this world, so it was worth making acquaintance of the lord of the other one.

He took a deep breath. For the first time since making the decision, he felt he could think about it with perfect calm. Maybe enough time had passed for him to get accustomed to it and accept it, deep in his heart, to divest himself of the futile fears and equally futile hopes. To understand it was the only thing he could and should do: giving his life to atone for the wrongs he had committed and to erase the dishonour to those he had failed. His resolve was strong, he felt it with his whole. Here, in the moment of peace, with no-one beside - except for the moon god, perhaps - he was even more certain of it than while in the burning despair and blazing anger. It was easy to make decisions when agitated; it was much harder to keep them when agitation was already gone. Kagetsuna felt he had finally found peace with himself. All other emotions had ceased to exist, and he didn't expect them to return any more.

He would do it tomorrow. The day after tomorrow at the very last. He would ask Lord Terumune - a head of the clan he served - the favour of dying with honour, a right of every samurai. Terumune-sama surely wouldn't refuse, considering the benevolence he had shown Kagetsuna so far. And then... Maybe Munenobu-san would be so kind to enlighten him in the matter of yet another ritual and even agree to be his second? They had talked to each other only a few hours, yet Kagetsuna already regarded Munenobu-san as a man deserving of trust. Besides, the way the samurai had behaved around him clearly indicated that in need one could count on his help and support - although Kagetsuna wasn't sure if it wasn't too much impudence on his part to assume that Munenobu-san would right away consent to assist him in such a grave matter. Not that Kagetsuna considered his seppuku something grave - but the ritual itself deserved such a qualification.

He spent the rest of the evening on meditation, staring into the depths of his mind, dispelling all possible doubts and parting with everyone precious to him. A samurai had to be always ready for death, so creating the bonds was a risky thing - and Kagetsuna had been careful with it for all his life. He didn't own valuables. His body belonged only to him. He had failed his important people, so he didn't deserve their affection. It was right this way.

When the bell tolling midnight broke his concentration, Kagetsuna decided to put an end to that strange half-conversation, half-monologue - with the moon god, with himself and with all people that had ever meant something to him. The candle on the altar was burning down, the wick sizzled, and the light dissipating the darkness was slowly dying. Kagetsuna got up and blew out the candle. For a moment, he stood and simply stared at the blue smoke rising. He shook his head and left the chapel.

Heading back to his room, he dropped in the stables, where he spent some time, face buried in Chestnut's mane. He had made Chestnut's acquaintance only last summer, yet he was under the impression he could call him a real friend. Brave, patient and strong horse. When on his back, Kagetsuna could have another view on the world and had got a foretaste of how it felt to be a warrior following his master. How many times Kagetsuna had seen it in dreams: being right behind his commander and ensuring his safety, the army behind their backs, the banners whirring in the wind, the hoofs beating the hymn in praise of the lord... The swords are clattering, the spears are shining, and the cries of faithful soldiers raise the spirits...

Cat darted between his legs, driving away yet another entrancing vision. Kagetsuna rubbed his forehead and patted Chestnut on the withers, then he turned back and left. The night hunter was sitting by the entrance, green eyes glistening mysteriously, and his prey was quietly squealing under his paw. The cat was following Kagetsuna's every move, and his gaze seemed to say, 'We can play together, but what I hunt is mine.' Kagetsuna went past, never stopping. He couldn't remember the last time he had felt like playing.

The clouds were still rolling over the sky, but there were few of them now, the waxing moon silvering their edges. The courtyard was finally silent. The gates of Yonezawa-jō were shut, the guards were walking slowly on the wall, alert to any move on the plain. Kagetsuna returned to his room and slid the shutters open, going in the balcony. The moonlight brought out the forests from the darkness, as well as the foothills of the Southern Ōu, further to the east. He inhaled the fresh air, redolent of resin, or so it seemed to him. For a moment, he stood by the balustrade, running his eyes over the treetops and hills, all the way to the horizon, the stars twinkling over it. He stepped back to the room, leaving the door ajar so that he could see the eye of the night sky from his bed.

The moonlight was distant, indifferent... and strangely soothing. Lying, he looked at the almost perfect circle, whose silvery glow had no equal on the firmament. The full moon was to be expected by the end of the week, revealing all the lunar shadows and exposing all the earthly shadows...

He stirred, not knowing where that thought had come from... and then he remembered.

_One day in the August, they were sitting by the stream in Ungan-ji and observing the round moon rising over the forest._

_"It looks like it has scars, don't you think?" Bontenmaru said._

_Kagetsuna squinted and focused his gaze on the pale surface of the moon. "Scars? Well, maybe a bit," he answered, not really convinced._

_"See? It looks like a face. It has eyes and even mouth." The boy raised his hand as if he wanted to show where exactly Kagetsuna should look. "And it has scars, too."_

_"I admit that I see something on it. Scars are fine with by me," Kagetsuna agreed, more for the sake of peace. "But how did you get the idea, Bontenmaru-sama?"_

_"In Yonezawa-jō, I saw many warriors with scars," Bontenmaru went on. "I thought they were scary... But father told it didn't matter. Their scars were a sign of their courage, he said."_

_"It is certainly true," Kagetsuna nodded, wondering what the boy was aiming at._

_"Fudō Myō-ō is scary, too," Bontenmaru added, as if he had just remembered._

_"He is, indeed. What about the moon, then?"_

_"It's beautiful. I like to watch it. And yet it has scars."_

_"So, what conclusion you draw?"_

_The boy mused. "That something unsightly may be beautiful?" he proposed cautiously, as if unsure of such apparent contradiction._

_Kagetsuna nodded, holding back a smile. "I think it is just so, Bontenmaru-sama..."_

He blinked, and the moonlight got blurred. He didn't manage to force back the two tears that slipped out of his eye-lids. He rolled over and pulled the blanket over his head.

Bontenmaru had been right, like always. Kagetsuna tried to visualize his face, just like he remembered from their last meeting, but couldn't. He remembered his eyes, nose and lips, but couldn't see clearly, for everything was bathed in the light radiating from the boy - so forceful it wiped out all shadows...

He was always right...


	15. Chapter 15

**~15~**  
**Father**

* * *

He woke up as the sun appeared from behind the distant range of Ōu, its rays falling on his face. Little chilled after having spent the November night by the open widow, he didn't delay rising to warm himself up. Soon, he heard a voice from behind the door, that was next slid open.

"Katakura-dono," the servant spoke after the polite greeting, "your bath will be ready in a minute. Please, eat this collation first," he suggested, putting the tray inside the room, a bowl of rice, a plate with fish and a cup of tea on it.

Munenobu-san had mentioned that, according to tradition, the last meal before the genpuku was to be austere. Once the ceremony was over, a sumptuous dinner was served, and the samurai tasted sake for the first time in his life. Kagetsuna wasn't particularly hungry, but the dish did taste well, so the tray was soon emptied.

"Please, follow me," the servant instructed, getting up, and led him to the baths.

The hot tub banished the last of coldness from his body, and Kagetsuna, regardless of the general situation, allowed himself a cautious pleasure from the toilet. How he was taken care of next appeared to be beyond his wildest dreams, and he couldn't but wonder if such treatment was a normal thing among nobility. After the bath that seemed a luxury itself, it was to be only better.

First the servants set to his hair. He parted with his fringe for ever, hair over his forehead was done in the adult style, and the rest of it was carefully combed and then, once it dried, tied on the top of his had in the ponytail he used to make himself, only much neater. Then he was dressed in a completely new set of clothing that must have been a gift from Terumune-sama. Undergarment, made of soft white cotton, and socks, too. Overgarment with short sleeves, adorned with the family crest... Kagetsuna stared at Kuyō - eight stars surrounding the central star of a full moon - a symbol deriving from the most fundamental and ancient astrological beliefs of the Continent. He had no idea how this sign, coming from the foreign land, had become the emblem of the Katakura; he had never asked... He hadn't felt especially attached to it, he had rarely even got to see it, but now a sudden emotion overcame him upon seeing this mark on his new attire. He put the shirt on with deliberation - as if it was a proof that only now did he become the Katakura - and the servants helped to smooth it out around his body. Kagetsuna looked at his forearms, unusually bare in this clothing.

Next was a hakama, midnight-blue as well, with seven plaits representing the samurai virtues. Kagetsuna could reel them off any time: Rectitude, Courage, Benevolence, Respect, Loyalty, Honesty and Honour. He thought that the last was only one left for him... He drove away this thought to focus on the reality and the careful way the servants were tying hakama at his waist. It was something totally unlike those children's pants he had been wearing until now...

He felt almost dizzy when, in the end, he was given a haori*, also crested. The garment fell around him, light and flimsy, yet nicely warm. He had never worn such a fine clothing before and, to tell the truth, was happy there was no mirror in the room, for he wasn't sure of his own reaction had he seen himself now. He was under the impression he looked completely different.

Finally, the servants withdrew, and Munenobu-san appeared. He cast a glance at Kagetsuna, examining him thoroughly from top to toe, and then nodded to express his approval. Kagetsuna noticed right away that the samurai had another air to him than only yesterday. His face was serious, and the cheerfulness marking his behaviour only the previous evening was gone now. It was hard to believe he was the same person. At the moment, Endō Munenobu strikingly resembled his honourable father as he was standing in the doorway, dignified, hand on katana tucked in his sash.

The man must have noticed the impression he made on Kagetsuna, for he smiled slightly, and his face brightened up in the twinkling of an eye. If Motonobu-dono smiled every now and then, it wouldn't hurt him, Kagetsuna thought, distracted, approaching the young samurai.

"So you're ready. Let's go to our places," Munenobu said, and it was all Kagetsuna heard from him the whole morning.

He followed the man, taking the clogs from the servant. A though occurred to him: that he would have to get used to the feeling the new clothing made - the haori was fluttering around him lightly, the hakama was tied tightly at his waist, and its stiff plates made a strange impression when he was walking. Only after a while did he realize there was and would be no need to get used to anything... He swallowed and focused his eyes on the back of Munenobu-san preceding him, trying to follow his example and square his shoulders. The bath had relaxed his limbs, but now they started getting tense again, probably due to the - completely unnecessary - nerves.

It took him a while to become aware of the whispers around him. He raised his head and looked around, bewildered. A couple of younger maids, as well as two ladies-in-waiting, were talking to each other in an undertone, covering their mouths with the long sleeves of their kimono, but definitely looking his way. It disturbed him. The servants would have noticed if some part of his attire had been put on disorderly, wouldn't they? Or, maybe they hadn't? He tried to glance at his back, but it didn't help anything. A quiet giggle reached him, and then another excited whisper.

Munenobu-san let out a sound of something between contempt and annoyance.

"Munenobu-san?" Kagetsuna uttered, close to despair.

The samurai turned his head and looked back at him, surprised - apparently at his tone. "What is it, Kagetsuna-kun?"

"Do... How am I looking?" Kagetsuna whispered, unsure of his voice. He had believed he hadn't cared about what the rest of the world thought of him, yet the idea he could have become an object of ridicule was horrifying.

"What?" Munenobu-san didn't understood.

Kagetsuna clenched his jaws and had a cautious look around. "I thought there's something wrong with my clothes. Everyone is... staring at me and... laughing," he muttered.

Munenobu-san cast a glance at him and then frowned. "No, everything is... Ah!" His face brightened when he obviously figured it out. His lips twitched as if he tried to hold back a smile. "You should look into a mirror more often," he threw an answer that remained unclear to Kagetsuna.

"Munenobu-san?"

The samurai resumed walking. "It seems to me that the ladies of Yonezawa-jō took a fancy to you, Kagetsuna-kun," he said quietly, and his words rang with laugher.

Suddenly speechless, Kagetsuna goggled and then quickened the pace to catch up with the man. He was firmly resolved to look straight ahead and nowhere else. He didn't know whether the samurai's revelation had horrified him or shocked him more. He could tell, however, his cheeks were burning.

Finally, they reached the castle garden, where the ceremony was to take place. Terumune-sama must have ordered good weather with the Gods of Fortune, although Kagetsuna suspected that the court was prepared for the rain as well. The vision of servants stretching the covering on the bamboo poles over the guests' heads was quite sensible. However, today the autumn sun was slowly rising over the pale sky, covered with the film of clouds, which made the pastel blue resemble the glazed porcelain. Despite the lateness of the season, the sunlight was tepid, and, since the wind had ceased, it was pleasantly warm in the garden.

Kagetsuna shifted his eyes from the sky, looking down, and took a deep breath. The whole yard was filled with the samurai and their families, all in their best clothes. Kagetsuna couldn't remember the last time he had seen so many people at the same time. He should have been prepared - he had witnessed the crowd arriving in Yonezawa-jō all previous day, and suspected it had happened for many days in row - but it was quite another thing to see it now.

The sight was indeed unmatched. Men of various status and age - veterans and those not much older than Kagetsuna - were standing with swords at their waists. Ladies were looking like flowers in the scenery of an autumn garden, in their exquisite kimonos of breath-taking colours and patterns, making it impossible to chose the most beautiful. Children were also present - some still in their parents' arms, other dignified, looking into their upcoming adulthood already. They had come from the whole region, from the whole domain of Yonezawa, to pay homage to their master - the subjects of daimyo Date Terumune and, in the future, of his son.

Munenobu-san led him to the side, where the closest retainers of Terumune-sama gathered. Kagetsuna looked around, shyly, fighting off the desire to move to the back. He hardly knew anyone here, but the individual faces did make him remember old times. Only Endō Motonobu, even more solemn today, greeted him with a nod. Kagetsuna thanked all his guardian spirits when Munenobu-san threaded his way to the wall surrounding the yard and stood by the strapping samurai, not much older than he. Then he introduced Kagetsuna to him.

"Oniniwa Tsunamoto," the man said in a deep voice, scrutinizing Kagetsuna. "So, it's you, the man responsible for-"

"Ssh," Munenobu-san silenced him. "We are not allowed to speak about it."

Tsunamoto didn't say more, only gave his friend an intent look, and then his eyes shifted back to Kagetsuna.

The youth felt uneasy. What was it that Tsunamoto-dono wanted to say and what didn't sit well with Munenobu-san? Kagetsuna was responsible for - what? He lowered his head since there was only one answer coming to his mind - the one he had been aware of for a long time. Apparently, everybody already knew - and if not everybody, then at least Terumune-sama's trusted warriors. They knew it was him, Katakura Kagetsuna, who had brought misfortune on the family heir.

But... He realized that the tone the samurai had spoken in was rather calm - and could it be the case if Tsunamoto-dono had held him in contempt? He raised his gaze upon the man, who, in the meantime, had turned to look at the platform intended for the daimyo and his family. Kagetsuna felt admiration well up in him - even more than when he had met Munenobu-san the previous day. Tsunamoto-dono was taller, his shoulders were broader, but his whole figure had some feline grace to it. Kagetsuna had no doubt that in the battlefield that man was to be feared. Mane of his hair seemed to stay in the binding at the base of his neck only on his honour. He wore a serious expression, but a strange glow in his eyes allowed to suspect that the emotions filling him might be even more violent than the open vehemence of Munenobu-san.

It suddenly occurred to Kagetsuna that the future head of the Date would always find a support in those two warriors.

Then, there was a stir in the crowd. Kagetsuna craned his neck to better see over the heads of the samurai standing ahead. The main players of the show were coming: the noble family of the Date along with their closest relatives. Lord Terumune was walking first, clad in a ceremonial robe with long sleeves. Even looking from afar, Kagetsuna could notice that the clothing was patterned with Date family crests. Made of the light fabric, it made Terumune-sama, more than ever, seem like a sun shining at everyone. Kagetsuna wasn't surprised in the slightest at the sighs of delight that filled the yard; feeling of the devotion he had always had to his lord welled in him, too. The daimyo was followed by Bontenmaru, who seemed to fade in comparison with his venerable father - or, maybe he didn't want to attract any attention? Kagetsuna frowned upon hearing that the admiration of the guests was replaced by the excited murmur.

Lord Terumune took the main seat, and the boy quickly sat down on his right hand, disappearing from Kagetsuna's sight. The cries of ecstasy came out of many lips when Lady Yoshihime appeared, clad in a kimono the colour of the cherry blossom. Jikumaru, whom she held by the hand, was obediently walking by his mother's side. Yoshihime sat down on the left hand of the daimyo and modestly lowered her head, but Kagetsuna could see her glancing at the gathered crowd every now and then.

The group was joined by Mogami Yoshiaki and his wife. Lady Yoshihime's older brother and the daimyo of Yamagata was a man at Lord Terumune's age, yet he made a completely different impression than his brother-in-law. His face was inscrutable, and the look of his narrowed eyes was serious and vigilant. He made quite a different impression than his sister, too, but Kagetsuna decided that one needed to be very careful whenever forming the opinions of the Mogami... Another couple - of the older people - took a place next to them.

"So, Yoshimori-dono showed up after all..." came from Tsunamoto-dono. "Things haven't been shaping up well between him and Yoshiaki since last year, although it's quite an understatement. I'm surprised he's agreed to come here in Yoshiaki's company."

"He is very attached to his grandson," Munenobu san threw in. "Apparently, he decided to put aside animosities and participate in the boy's birthday celebration. Who knows, something good may come of this..."

In the end, Lord Harumune and Lady Kubohime, parents of Terumune-sama, ascended the platform. Lady Kubohime was smiling gently, and Kagetsuna remembered her as a serene and kind woman. The same was not to be said about her husband, who was striding with a stern look on his face, although him, too, Kagetsuna held as much more understanding man it seemed on the surface.

Then, however, he opened his eyes wide as, in the person closing the procession, he recognized... his father, who, in the ceremonial robe, accompanied the high priest of Yonezawa-jō. Kagetsuna swallowed and took a moment to put the chaotic emotions that filled him in order. He was proud, oh, so proud! And almost happy due to the honour his father gained - a humble priest of the small shrine in the mountain village. He clenched his fists. 'It's my father,' he wanted to tell the whole world and then was surprised there was still so many burning feelings left in him.

Next hours merged into one. After many speeches, praises, thanks and wishes, the main part of the ceremony, involving active participation of the guests, started. People walked up and away, one by one paying homage to the daimyo and his family, especially to the hero of the day. General atmosphere, after initial stiffness and tension, started to loosen up. Joy of the visitors was more visible. The courteous seriousness was replaced by smiles, the serious faces of the samurai softened, and excited chirping of children, who sensed the change in mood first and couldn't remain silent any more, turned the autumn garden into land of fairy tale - for only in fairy tales one could feel so calm and happy. Kagetsuna recollected Lord Terumune's words on the peace they had had for many years in the region. Indeed, if the domain had been constantly war-torn, like the southern provinces were, organizing such a celebration would have been impossible.

Finally, it was Kagetsuna's turn, so he approached the platform and bowed deeply before the daimyo and his first-born son. He felt the rush of his blood as he was staying there, head lowered, mustering his courage to raise his gaze. And when he did it and, for the first time in many weeks, looked again in his Masamune-sama's eyes, his heart clenched in sorrow.

He had managed to forget how great devastation had the disease made in the boy's appearance. Maybe he had hoped that, in time, the defects in his looks would cease to stand out so much - yet, after a month of separation, his sight shocked much more than Kagetsuna could have ever expected. Bontenmaru's thick hair had thinned and lost its shine, and now were falling quite sadly along his face. Kagetsuna had a vague idea that, having turned five, the boy should have it backswept and tied up, but someone wise - and merciful - had apparently decided that his pockmarked face would have looked even worse. Thus, Bontenmaru had his hair combed to the right, partly covering and casting the shadow on his scarred features and the blind eye. The only one that was left just like Kagetsuna remembered was the boy's left eye, although its gaze was slightly different now - more understanding and more bitter...

All in all, the boy seemed serious in some sad way - as if he had been completely disillusioned and finally understood the harsh reality around him - and didn't look like the lord's son having the banquet given and guests invited from the whole region of his honour. Regarding the whole of the figure he was facing, Kagetsuna was under the impression the sense of guild would weigh him down to the ground - and, in the same time, this emotion was competing with the ardent love filling all his body and soul. In that one moment, he became aware of the fact that he had never loved anyone that much - and he would never love.

It could be that something of this was reflected in his glance, for Bontenmaru's lips twitched, and his gaze got little warm. A shy, almost invisible smile crossed the boy's face. Kagetsuna felt his eyes stinging and went back to his place, breathing deeply and trying to contain himself. There was no chance he could focus on the rest of the ceremony - and he didn't even try.

Around noon, the guests were invited to the meal, prepared in another part of the garden, and Kagetsuna was surprised to realize the time of his genpuku was drawing closer. When everyone dispersed, he stayed where he stood, emotionally exhausted and unable to do anything. He didn't have any strength left to look around, only kept standing by the wall, looking inside him, and repeating that soon it would be all over.

Munenobu-san came for him and led him to the arbour, where the family of the Date had gathered - even Lord Harumune and Lady Kubohime, even Lady Yoshihime. Jikumaru, already tired from the ceremony, must have been entrusted to the servants, but Bontenmaru was remaining by his father's side and observing the situation intently. Slightly to the side, Kagetsuna spotted the priest of the castle and his own father. Behind him stood Munenobu-san and few other samurai of Lord Terumune - some of them had announced their presence in advance, some other simply happened to be here. To Kagetsuna, it was all the same.

The ceremonial itself was short, but how solemn. Kagetsuna wished he could participate in it whole-heartedly. It was hard for him to even concentrate on the situation, but, if anyone noticed, it could surely be put down to his eventual nervousness. In any case, instructed the previous day by Munenobu-san, he answered Lord Terumune at all right points and spoke all customary phrases. Only when the daimyo asked him a name he would like to enter the adulthood with, he had to use all his might not to look at Bontenmaru.

"Kojūrō," he said quietly, not trusting his voice.

"Henceforth, you shall be known as Katakura Kojūrō," Terumune-sama declared and then added, "Let this name appertain to all your successors when they take up the position of the head of your clan."

Kagetsuna blinked, not really knowing what the daimyo was referring to, but he was too overwhelmed to wonder about it. The glow coming from Terumune-sama dazzled, and Kagetsuna felt he was at the end of his tether. Fortunately, if he remembered correctly from Munenobu-san's story, the end was near...

Terumune-sama put an eboshi** on his head - a sign that young Katakura had become an adult man - and then presented him with two swords, which made him a samurai. For a moment, Kagetsuna stared at the blades in the lacquered scabbards, then tucked them in his obi - he had seen many samurai doing it before - and looked the daimyo in the eye, firmly clenching his jaws. He bowed to his lord and straightened up, accompanied by cheers and congratulations.

The final part of the ritual was the visit in the shrine of Izanagi, where they headed in a smaller group: Kagetsuna, his father, the high priest, the daimyo and Bontenmaru. Kagetsuna felt the weight of the swords at his hip and tried to grasp their meaning as he was walking for the castle shrine, eyes fixed ahead, mustering the last of his strength for the finale. The shadowed interior brought relief to his weary eyes, and the atmosphere of the sacred place soothed all other senses. He inhaled the air smelling of the wood and relished the silence after the joyful bustle of the gardens.

Long he was standing in front of the altar, calming down after the events of the day and getting rid of the feeling he would lose consciousness any moment. He was under the impression he had spent last hours in dreams, merely looking at the moving images he hadn't really partaken in - and only meeting with Bontenmaru was more real than anything else, as it had shaken him in the whole and exhausted him to no end. And this, on its part, had aggravated the feeling of being detached from the world, leaving the thorn of regret in his heart.

Unconsciously, he registered the steps on the floor when the participants of the ceremony were walking away, one by one, leaving him alone with Izanagi, the guardian of his path.

Was he allowed to ask the creator of the world and father of all gods for anything? Maybe the courage to fulfil his resolve to the end? The only wish that occurred his mind was the protection for Bontenmaru - although he didn't really know if he still believed in any gods.

He took a deep breath and turned around, ready for the final stage of his journey.

He didn't go far.

Katakura Kagenaga stood in the entrance. He had perfectly merged into atmosphere of the shrine, and Kagetsuna hadn't sensed him being there.

"What are you going to do now, son?" asked the holy priest, who had long since crossed the border between two worlds: material and spiritual.

"Carry out my master's will," the quiet answer came out of Kagetsuna's lips almost unconsciously.

Kagenaga gave him an intent look, one that Kagetsuna knew so well.

"Really?"

The youth frowned. Something in father's voice - some disbelief, almost taunt - concerned him.

"I am a samurai, father. It is my duty to serve my lord."

"With this, I agree."

Kagetsuna remained silent, trying to overcome the agitation that - unbelievable - was surging in him so quickly, although he had spent a long time to regain peace of mind. Why? Father had never thrown him off-balance... But, never before had he behaved that way, either - such strange way, as if he knew something Kagetsuna didn't realize. He loosened his fists; he hadn't even noticed clenching them.

"Father?" he asked cautiously, although he could just leave and go where he wanted.

Kagenaga looked out at the bright sky through the open door, and then his gaze came back to Kagetsuna. The candle flame reflected in his eyes.

"We have never spoken much," he stated quite unexpectedly, but it was only his next words making Kagetsuna catch his breath, "I know I wasn't a proper father to you..."

"It's not truth!" Kagetsuna blurted out before he thought anything. But he really believed it!

Something akin to the surprised smile crossed Kagenaga's face. Then the man shook his head.

"The truth is we've spent quite little time together. However, it doesn't mean I don't know you, son," he went on. "I can tell when you're happy and when you're sad. Your self-composure is magnificent, just like it befits a samurai," a crude praise rang in his voice, "But you can't deceive me."

Kagenaga kept silent. His heart was beating faster and faster. What was father aiming at?

"It's as clear as day that something shadows your heart, and it's been like this for some time now," Kagenaga said just like this. "Self-composure is a virtue, but every father would know when his child is unwell. One could admire the way you're perfectly hiding your feelings, but in my eyes you just look like a person who was treated differently he deserved. Today you've become an adult man. I know you've long awaited this day and wished for it with all your heart. I saw that flicker in your eyes even in the summer. Like I told you, I can tell when you're happy. Your eyes were so alive then," he pointed. "Today, the day that should be a festival to you, your eyes are dead, Kagetsuna. They are deprived of any hope."

Kagetsuna lowered his gaze and clenched his fists again. He didn't want to listen to this, but somehow he was rooted to the spot and couldn't take even one step to leave here.

His father kept going, "When in Terumune-sama's service, I used to see such eyes, you know? Those were tough warriors, battle-hardened men who didn't fear death and fought for the glory of our lord. His name always on their lips, they launched into the fray with faith, for they knew he was right behind them. Their confidence was boosted by his trust, and they mustered the courage from the last part of their bodies. One could say those men would never lose their happiness, yet I saw them dead when still alive. You know when? When they failed and felt there was no future for them. They were dead already before they struck themselves the fatal blow."

Kagetsuna didn't stir. He stood, motionless, feeling his face become a mask with every word. Why was father saying such things? What could he really know?

"Kagetsuna, you're walking on a precipice, and your steps are governed by despair," Kagenaga said simply. "You're but one step from self-destruction. And you know it, don't you? Your mother had such an insight, too. It never failed her. She was always aware of what she did and what she felt. You have inherited it from her, and sometimes I can't tell whether you make me proud or frighten me. Oh, definitely the former, have no doubt about it."

Kagetsuna felt dizzy. Father was interlarding his speech with compliments and throwing the hard truths, all in such a tone Kagetsuna didn't know how to react. He clenched his jaws and swallowed, feeling he was short of air - like during the whole day. He turned his back and tucked his head in the shoulders, trying to stay conscious.

"What I cannot understand is why," Kagenaga continued in the same calm voice. "What happened to deprive you of all faith and hope? What is that blame that shows you only one path? A honourable one, but... so sad?"

The father's words were drowned out by the rush of blood in his head, but Kagetsuna heard them clearly regardless. And now he started to fear what they would cause. Father sounded as if nothing had happened. As if they could just wave aside what had happened. Suddenly, Kagetsuna was scared that, if he looked at the matter from his point of view, it might shake his resolve. Why?

For a moment, Kagenaga was silent, as if he tried to find answers to those questions since his son didn't want to give them to him. "In my eyes, you haven't deserved any blame, quite the contrary," came his thoughtful voice. "Here, in the court, everyone thinks the same. And if not everyone, than the daimyo, for sure, as well as his retainers. Just look, they received you like a noble man, and Terumune-sama do nothing but honour you. Not without a reason... Care and devotion you've been showing his successor from the very first are incontrovertible. Anyone can tell you would do anything for that boy. There's nothing more virtuous of a samurai."

Kagetsuna's hands clutched at the rail in front of the altar. He felt he wouldn't last long. Suddenly, he realized how hard it was to keep it all to himself, hold on in secret by himself and comprehend that burden by himself. He felt an irresistible temptation to share it with someone. With father. Even at a price of father grasping, understanding that all virtues were of no significance in the face of that one thing, and turning away disgustedly... Leaving him alone with his guilt and decisions.

"You have found your master," Kagenaga stated, and his deep voice rang with some respect. "When Terumune-sama asked your name, I was surprised. That time, in Kaneyama, I assumed it was him who gave it to you... But as you were answering him, the boy mouthed it along with you - and then I understood everything. You have found your master, and it should fill you with happiness more than anything else, not with despair."

Kagetsuna listened to it and felt like throwing himself on the ground and banging his head on the floor, although he knew it wouldn't help at all. There was only one thing to help him - if he expected any help in the first place...

"But it's all my fault," he choke out finally, although his throat was swelling, which reduced his credibility. Still, he was convinced, with all his heart, of the truth in his words. "It was I who brought the misfortune upon him, father. If I hadn't interfered in his life in Ungan-ji, Master Kosai would have never let him see the village children, that had brought the plague in the temple," he whispered. After all, he wasn't able to shout it out even if he wanted. "It's my fault he turned... like this. I have robbed him of a chance to become a great warrior. I might have even robbed him of a chance to become a daimyo..."

He felt as if his heart was pierced by a katana, for those words spoke about the harsh reality. He wasn't better at all. But, at least, he had said it aloud, and the secret ceased to be a secret, filthy and tainting by the very fact of its existence.

This time, Kagenaga fell silent for a longer while. Kagetsuna was breathing heavily, awaiting his answer, but he didn't expected the one that came.

"Only this?" the disappointment rang in the man's voice indeed, but it seemed it applied to something else than Kagetsuna's deed itself. "You draw such conclusions based on some vague probability or lack of it?"

Only this? To Kagetsuna, it was all. He turned back and looked his father in the eye.

"Probability or not, my fault is a fact. I failed him," he spoke, and there was no emotion to his tone, although father's words had flustered him again.

Just like the following ones.

"He's already forgiven you," Kagenaga replied with an absolute calm and full confidence that shook Kagetsuna more than the statement itself. Where could father derive it from? "No, I'm sure he hasn't even once thought there's anything to forgive," Kagenaga corrected right away. "I can only guess at what happened between you, in Ungan-ji and here, in Yonezawa-jō, although I don't really need to, for it's not my concern." He looked Kagetsuna in the eye. "One is as plain as a pikestaff, though: that boy no longer trusts anyone but you, son. Not because you happened to be there, but exactly because it was you. He got to know you and knows he can trust you. Maybe he can see in you more than you see yourself, lost in sense of guilt that makes you run away from responsibility."

Kagetsuna felt his blood boiled.

"Run away from responsibility? How...? But I..." Why it was that father didn't understand? He couldn't control himself any more. "Father, you have never failed your master! If it was the case, you wouldn't have sat by his side today, on this great celebration, and enjoyed his favour! Do not speak of something you have no idea of!" he shouted out, aware it was the first time in his life he raised his voice to his father.

He was breathing quickly. In fact, his anger wasn't directed at father. He only felt he had to, somehow, even if it was childish, fight his corner and defend his resolve.

Kagenaga didn't react to his son's outburst - it could be that he didn't intend to treat him like a little child - only his eyes flickered with severity of his next words.

"If you leave him now, you will strike a blow in his very heart," he said in a tone indicating he was speaking the obvious. "The scars it would leave will be much worse than those caused by the disease. If you acknowledge your guilt, do anything to expiate it. Not by choosing the easiest way, but by choosing the most difficult. Stay with him. Be at his side. Support him. It is what you wanted, isn't it? This is what he waits for and needs."

Kagetsuna opened his eyes wide, while father was going on and clearly didn't want to stop yet.

"You have deprived him of a chance to become a warrior? Then the greater effort you have to put into making him one. This is your real duty now. Besides... He is a son of the Date. He won't give up that lightly. You know it best."

Despite himself, Kagetsuna nodded. He knew. He had always known... He raised his eyes on father, shyly, as if had just started to hear him... Kagenaga must have noticed it.

"However, if you act selfishly and choose death, not even considering the benefits he can derive from your staying alive, then it's likely that you will deprive him of any chance indeed," now there was warning in father's words. "You know that boy's story much better than I; you've been there and seen it with your own eyes. But even I can tell his life has not always been easy. Even a strong tree will bend if you hit it long enough. A dragon soaring into the sky will fall if you shot many arrows at him." Again, he looked Kagetsuna in the eye. "Do you want to be that last hit for him, after which he won't stand up again? I suppose I'm not wrong thinking it was all thanks to you that he managed to endure the adversities. If you are not there, whom is he going to rely on? True, there are many trustworthy samurai here - but it's you whom he chose."

Kagetsuna clenched his jaws and then lowered his head, trying to calm his breath. He felt his resolve shatter into pieces like a porcelain vase. Father was right. Oh, each of his words was right - he knew it, deep inside, although he hadn't thought about it even once. All it took was to reach for it, believe in it and accept it in heart...

But could he just do it? When father was speaking, it all sounded so simple. Just like everything that had happened - and that he had contributed to - didn't really matter. Yet it did. And his guilt was his guilt. He didn't want to draw back - what kind of man it would make of him in the end? But what had arisen in him due to his father's words didn't let to be tamed so easily.

Kagenaga was observing him closely; surely he didn't overlook even one shadow on his face. Finally, he said, "Do you want to ruin the ceremony that everyone, from all their might, try to make happy in spite of the sorrow there's more than enough reasons for? Have you even considered the others? It was your life to be a birthday gift for a boy, not your death."

"A... gift?" Kagetsuna uttered.

Kagenaga averted his eyes, as if impatient. For a moment, it seemed he wouldn't say more, that he had already said too much, but then he spoke, reluctance in his voice, "Yesterday Terumune-sama asked me for a talk. Some others samurai he trusts deeply, including Endō-san, joined. And Lady Yoshihime, too, although she shouldn't have even been there, for the subject was not fit for women. Terumune-sama is too lenient with her..." he muttered in a reproachful tone. "We were discussing _you_. Endō-san insisted that you are appointed Bontenmaru's attendant, his first retainer even before he becomes a daimyo. I won't quote all those praises Endō-san was generous with, it's enough to say that Terumune-sama agreed with everything, and his samurai backed the idea, too. Lady Yoshihime had nothing against you, either."

"Yoshihime-sama...?" Throughout father's talk, Kagetsuna had put a lot of effort into concentrating, but the last one shook him to the core and was most hard to believe.

Kagenaga nodded. "To tell the truth, she sounded rather indifferent when speaking of it..." He stopped short and then resumed talking, "It doesn't change the fact that both daimyo and his wife, Bontenmaru's parents, don't see any problems with that you take care of their son, now as his official subordinate and a samurai. Do you realize what a honour it is?"

Kagetsuna swallowed since his throat had been long since dry. He was staring at his father, eyes wide, unable to gather any thought. Kagenaga turned back, standing in the doorway, his silhouette obscured the entrance, making the shrine get darker.

"If you still wish to kill yourself, feel free," his voiced, emotionless again, reached Kagetsuna. "Still, I do hope you will think over what I told you and understand how you can serve your master best. As Katakura Kojūrō."

Kagetsuna looked at his figure bathed in the sunlight and suddenly couldn't see clearly. He felt something break in him. All those emotions he had been trying to stifle for so long... to bury since he hadn't needed them any more... were surging in him, taking his breath, squeezing his throat... His heart was racing, his head was spinning... He covered his face with the hand and closed his eyes.

Oh, how he wanted to live! He didn't want to die...! He didn't want to leave him - this one thought was so obvious that it tore apart his whole. He wanted to follow Masamune-sama, stay by his side, support him... See him becoming a daimyo and expanding his rule. Witness his every day as he grew up to be a man and a great warrior. Rejoice at his happiness and cheer him up in defeat. Ride alongside him through the forests, train together... sometimes dig up the turnip and sometimes brush his hair... See his smile... like today... And never again... never... make him sad...

He fell to his knees, shaken by sobs, when all the dams collapsed and the excruciating tension of last weeks found a vent.

Could he really get another chance? Did he still deserve it?

A smiling face of the boy flashed before his eyes.

He knew his answer.

And long speeches weren't like him anyway.

Sobbing was still tearing his lungs, but, along with the tears, all depression, grief and load weighing his heart were leaking, too. He felt as if he came back to life, and this feeling was so exquisite he could barely believe it to be real. It was as if, after many years in darkness, he went outside to see a sun and took a breath of fresh air.

He couldn't think of himself any better than a moment ago, but the feeling he could atone for his sins still keeping the hope for happiness was like a pardon.

A hand rested on his shoulder, almost timidly, but in the quiet words that reached him he could hear no hesitation.

"Forgive me I didn't tell you this earlier. I am so proud of you, my son, and I will always be," Kagenaga spoke, and his grip grew tighter. Kagetsuna took a deep breath, although sobs didn't make it easy. Despite the pounding in his ears, he heard yet another whisper, "I'm sure he also is."

* * *

* haori - a hip- or thigh-length kimono-like jacket, which adds formality to an outfit

** eboshi - a peaked cap, originally a headdress worn to indicate a man who had passed his "coming of age" ceremony

_(wikipedia)_


	16. Chapter 16

**_Epilogue_**

* * *

Katakura Kojūrō was standing on the highest deck of the castle and looking north.

"So, Katakura-dono has left?" Bontenmaru asked, leaning against the balustrade, his voice slightly hoarse. Western wind blew through his hair. "In the end, he didn't show me the place they are growing. Those herbs to help..." he stopped short, embarrassed.

"He said he had to go back to the village. He seemed like he wasn't going to come to Yonezawa-jō again."

"Then, we will have to visit _him_," the boy decided casually. Kojūrō gave him an intent look, and the boy returned it. "I took liking to him. He is very like you," he went on to explain.

The young samurai fixed his eyes on the high-road visible almost all the way to the horizon again. "He is a wise man," he spoke. "I am nothing like him."

"Yet, he handed it over to you, the lead of your family," Bontenmaru pointed out. "He must have decided you deserved it, and it speaks for something."

"He gave me much more," Kojūrō replied in a softer voice, then he turned his head and looked at the boy with a sudden decision. "Masamune-sama..."

"Yes?"

"I haven't told you about it, but it was me who made Master Kosai let you meet with the children in Ungan-ji." He said it. He had enough courage and strength to say it.

Bontenmaru was silent. "And?" he asked finally as he hadn't heard any more.

"It was my fault that you fell ill with smallpox."

The boy gave him a fleeting look. "Oh," he replied, and it stood for all his comment, although after a moment he added in quite indifferent voice, "Kabe-sensei said no-one is at fault with the disease."

Kojūrō swallowed. "All of you are so wise..." he stated in an undertone with some ironic envy. "But, had father not knocked some sense into me, I would have done something more foolish."

Bontenmaru nodded, as if he was agreeing with everything, still staring at the blaze of the sunset. Then, however, he took his eyes off the sky and looked at him seriously. "When you disappeared two days ago..." he started and stopped.

"We went to visit my mother's grave," Kojūrō hurried to explain.

Bontenmaru looked at the distance, again. "Don't disappear like this any more, Kojūrō," he asked quietly, hesitating a bit.

"I won't, Masamune-sama."

"Stay by my side," the boy added, with more confidence.

"I will, Masamune-sama," Kojūrō assured him.

"I'm going to need your help to become a daimyo," Bontenmaru whispered and then added, in a quite different tone, "In spite of them all."

His voice - also marked by the disease, that had robbed it of the previous melody - was cold now. The boy narrowed his eyes, and a feeling of resentment was reflected on his face, along with the strong desire to show his quality, at all cost. In such a small boy it could horrify - especially when the red glow of the sunset sharpened his features and gave some devilry to them - but Kojūrō knew the reasons and understood. He had heard it with his own ears when Lady Yoshihime had stated she couldn't see her oldest son as a heir to the Date. But he wasn't going to bother himself with Yoshihime, at least not now.

"You can count on me, Masamune-sama," he said solemnly.

The boy's face softened. Bontenmaru nodded. "I know," he replied just like this and smiled.

Kojūrō suppressed a sigh.

Father had been right about everything. The thought he might have deprived the boy of what was important to him - after he had finally accepted the fact _he_ was important to Bontenmaru, after he had finally believed it without reservation...

"And when we visit your father, you will take me to the field, won't you?"

"Of course, Masamune-sama."

"Turnip, aubergine... What more do you have there?"

"Leeks," Kojūrō revealed. "The world's best leeks of the Katakura."

The boy burst out laughing, and the sound carried over the cry of wild geese flying over the tower of Yonezawa-jō. He brushed his hair aside from the face and turned his gaze, full of calm enthusiasm, north. He was happy.

Kojūrō was looking at him, relishing the sensation of the perfect peace that fell on him when the last shadow disappeared from his heart.

The feeling he was forgiven everything had no equal.

_31.10.2010 - 13.1.2011_

* * *

And so the story came to an end. Thanks for reading my _Moon Scars_ and leaving comments. I hope you enjoyed it, at least a bit. Once again, thank you for your attention.

~Clio~


	17. Chapter 17

**Warning:** The story was supposed to be closed - and it is indeed. This short "bonus" text isn't its part, but is related to it, and thus, after all, I decided to put it here. Still, mind it, you absolutely don't have to read it - and, if you do, the responsibility is all yours. This is a light, funny and somewhat absurd conclusion of what happened in the Chapter 15. Or not.

Inspired by author's own experiences with hakama. Enjoy!

~Clio~

* * *

_Moon Scars: Bonus_

* * *

Kagetsuna - now, officially, Kojūrō - got in the room and slid the door behind him. With relief, he leaned against it and closed his eyes. Finally the end. It was finally the end. _The end of that terrible, wonderful day,_ he corrected himself. The celebration of Bontenmaru's birthday, stretching into many hours. Then his genpuku ceremonial, along with prayers and speeches. During the following feast he had been sitting like a log and trying not to draw attention to himself - which hadn't bothered anyone since the whole attention had been attracted to Munenobu-san, who definitely was the life and soul of the party.

He could finally rest.

He was dead on his feet, even though a samurai probably shouldn't admit it, especially in the first day of his adulthood. On the other hand, he supposed he had all the right to feel so emotionally exhausted - exactly during such an important day?

He wasn't really surprised catching a glimpse in the corner, and then Bontenmaru was already sitting in the middle of the room, eyeing him.

"You look very..." the boy started - and stopped, apparently trying to find a proper qualification. "Very."

Kojūrō smiled with the corner of his lips. "Very _tired?_" The boy shook his head. "Very _different?_ "

"No, it's not this either. You _look_ different, but... I mean... In general. Very."

Despite his fatigue, Kojūrō gave him an intent look. "And?"

Bontenmaru lowered his eyes and then grinned. "And I like it, Kojūrō."

Kojūrō smiled, this time wider. "I'm honoured, Masamune-sama."

He got away from the door and sat down next to the boy.

Uncomfortable.

He turned his head and assessed the situation.

The swords didn't favour sitting.

He sighed.

He took the katana off, and then the wakizashi, too, and put them down.

Much better...

"Don't fall asleep, Kojūrō!"

His head snapped up, and he looked at the boy. Indeed, he had been overcome by drowsiness the very moment he had rested... "I beg your pardon, Masamune-sama."

"It's all right. But you won't be comfortable sitting..."

"Mhm..."

Bontenmaru shook his head again and set about laying out a futon, which waked Kojūrō at once.

"Masamune-sama! What-"

"I'm preparing you a bed, Kojūrō."

"I can tell, but..."

Oh, Amida Buddha! It couldn't be that the lord was preparing a bed for his retainer. He intended to stand up, but it appeared that the inexperience with hakama didn't favour such acrobatics.

"You see? You're already collapsing, Kojūrō."

"Masamune-sama, I..."

Bontenmaru patted a pillow, smoothed out a blanked and gave Kojūrō a questioning look. Kojūrō sighed, defeated. The bed looked very invitingly indeed...

"Thank you, Masamune-sama."

The boy brightened like an elf. Kojūrō rose and, carefully, slid his hands under the hakama straps.

He froze.

He lowered his eyes and then swallowed.

It didn't look good.

How, for all holiness, was he going to take it off?

"Masamune-sama, might you know..." _'how to untie a hakama?'_ he was about to ask, but managed to bite his tongue.

Bontenmaru was sitting on the edge of the bed and looking very pleased of himself. If he had a tail, he would surely wave it.

"What is it, Kojūrō?"

"No, I just thought..."

Bontenmaru stood up to look closer. He walked around him, paying a special attention to his waist. He examined the front knot with his deft fingers. He even slid his tiny hands underneath and palpated the inside thoroughly. In the end, he shook his head resignedly. "It's not for my eye," he claimed reluctantly.

Kojūrō didn't manage to stifle his sigh. For some time now, he had been profanely considering going to bed in hakama.

Then the boy jumped up. "I think you should use the wakizashi."

"Wakizashi? But..." The boy was already giving it to him with renewed enthusiasm. "But, why wakizashi, Masamune-sama?"

"It's simpler to use." Kojūrō blinked. "What is it again, Kojūrō?"

"Masamune-sama, I cannot desecrate the best clothing I've ever had..."

"Even if you somehow manage to untie it, you will have to fold it, for one must not leave his hakama unfolded. Such is a custom. I've heard it takes a quarter, if one's had some practice already. In your case, however..."

The candle light flickered on the bare blade, the noise of cutting the fabric was to be heard, and the hakama fell on the floor.

"...it would take one hour, at least. Oh!"

"Thank you for your assistance, Masamune-sama," Kojūrō said, sheathing the sword.

"You're welcome, Kojūrō."

He might as well add _'I hope to be of service in the future'_ - but he wasn't the one to do services here, after all. Besides, Kojūrō was pretty sure there was going to be no future. In relation to the hakama, that was what he meant.

Folding the kosode was like pulling out a leek. He slid under the cover and closed his eyes with a bliss. Bontenmaru's fingers untied the strap in his hair.

He smiled.

"But, how am I going to explain it...?" he asked drowsily. His innate decency couldn't leave him be.

"Just say it's all Munenobu's and Tsunamoto's fault," Bontenmaru's voice reached him from the doorway.

"Mmm... Why?"

"Because it's their favourite way."

Kojūrō, however, wasn't sure whether or not the last one was a dream already.

Still, he hoped that night he would have no nightmares.


	18. Chapter 18

**Departure**  
_(spinoff)_

* * *

Yonezawa-jō falls behind. The place that have been his home for last three days recedes as their horses slowly move towards the north. It is June, but the day is cloudy, and probably it will rain later. Father's back in front of him is broad, as is the rump of the horse he mounts. Kagetsuna rides on a small pony that is a gift from his father; it's the only thing that can comfort him at the moment. He already knows he will name him 'Chestnut', for the pony is of such a warm brown colour. The horse appears calm, but he sometimes swings his head as if wanting to buck a bit. Kagetsuna hopes they will become friends. He obtained some apples in the kitchen and intends to share them with the pony that will carry him from now on. A long journey awaits them, all the way to the coast - and it's going to be the first venture for both of them. Kagetsuna is grateful to the pony for carrying him and his luggage; all his possession of the last three years is now in the saddlebags: a few books and some clothes.

The travel to Zuigan-ji is going to take two or three days; at first, they will follow the northern highroad to Yamagata, and then they will turn east. Kagetsuna is going to see an ocean for the first time in his life. He tries to muster some enthusiasm at this thought, but it's too difficult. He cannot enjoy this journey because he is losing his home again. It's the third time that he has to leave the safe place. He can't really remember the first one; he was very little when his mother died and father sent him to Kaneyama, to stay with the aunt. On the contrary, he can remember very clearly the time when three years ago he left to Yonezawa to serve the daimyō Date Terumune-sama. Despite his anxiety, he was happy and excited. And Yonezawa quickly became his home, too. Maybe he should believe the same thing will happen in Zuigan-ji as well? But he can't think this way. He can't imagine himself calling any other place his home.

Yet, his father's will is absolute. Father wishes that Kagetsuna go and study under... What was his name? Under Master Shōkei Sōshin's tutelage. Father wishes that Kagetsuna learn to meditate, and grow in spirit before he becomes a samurai. It doesn't occur to Kagetsuna to complain or object; he is going to fulfil his father's will proudly. Still, he can't stop longing for the buzz of Yonezawa-jō, filled with the samurai, talks on battles, and the clatter of swords. He doesn't even know if he will be allowed to train kenjutsu in Zuigan-ji. He glances at his wooden sword, attached to the saddle, and presses his lips. Then he fixes his eyes on father's back before him, resolved to look nowhere else.

He should focus on the long way... but he can't stop his thought... his most recent memories from flooding into his mind. He said goodbye to Master Ueno who trained him in kenjutsu in the castle. 'Samurai's soul is like his sword, remember it. Never let your soul become dull and never lose your goal,' the master said to him, granting him the last lesson. He said goodbye to the servants he had managed to become friends with when performing services for the daimyō. 'Terumune-sama will never have a page like you, that's for sure,' said Ayaka, a laundress, giving him a shirt and praying for his safety. 'Don't forget to eat properly. A man has to remain strong,' advised Harada-san from the kitchen, putting two manju in his bag. And Lord Terumune...

Kagetsuna sniffs and for a while rides with his head down. A cry of a hawk that maybe has spotted his prey comes from up high. Chestnut treads carefully on the road that recent downpours has brought some rocks on. Something wet falls on his hands that hold the reins. It seems the rain has started.

Lord Terumune smiled and said, 'The gate of Yonezawa-jō will be always open for you. Come back quickly to the Date. Like your father served me, one day you will serve my son.'

Kagetsuna doesn't know if he is going to come back quickly. Now that Yonezawa is left behind, the time before him seems eternity. The thought he is going to spend months, maybe even years, in the unfamiliar place and with strangers... makes him think he will not manage, after all. He will fail his father and everyone else believing in him... He will disgrace himself and return here at the first opportunity and...

But he cannot return here. He cannot return until it's due time, until his father decides so. He lifts his head and waits a moment until he can see clearly again. A gust of wind from the south blows his hair on his face. He turns around and looks at the white silhouette of the castle towering in the valley against the forest and the mountains far away. A beam of sunlight breaks thorough the clouds, illuminating the high tower where live people close to him. He fills his eyes with that view, for one last time letting his gaze move over the curved roofs and small windows, all the way to the stone base. Then he turns north and resumes his ride, making his decision.

One day he will return here - to serve Lord Terumune and his heir whom Lady Yoshihime may even now carry in her womb - but until then he _will not think of Yonezawa_. He will go to the small temple on the coast in order to meditate and strengthen his spirit in the sea breeze. He will concentrate on praying and studying. He will learn about his mind and improve himself. He will leave the world behind - just like now he is leaving Yonezawa and the Date - for as long as it takes. He will make Master Shōkei proud of him. He will fulfil his father's will.

He lets the northern wind dry his eyes and fixates on the road. Yonezawa-jō grows smaller behind his back and in his mind to soon vanish completely. He thinks he can hear the scream of gull and humming of the waves. He takes a deep breath and feels his heart no longer pounds as fast as before.

Calm, clear as the blue sky, falls upon him.

* * *

**A/N. **I hope you liked it. There is one more text, and I am going to post it soon. But what is more important – and maybe will make some of you happy – I have written the sequel of **Moon Scars**. _That_ I'm definitely not going to post _soon, _but as soon as I'll have the English version completed anyway (autumn, I suppose) ^^ Stay tuned! ~Clio


	19. Chapter 19

**In the fireweed**  
_(spinoff)_

* * *

Tsunamoto didn't like Yonezawa-jō; although, it was more accurate to say he didn't feel good in the castle. It was not his fault; of course, if one didn't count the fault that children bore for their parents' sins. Though his father had long since left the court of the Date, he was still remembered there, and not well. Only after he had fallen into Lord Terumune's disgrace and had been, to put it plainly, banished from Yonezawa-jō, he'd begun to understand that his conduct didn't befit a samurai. Now he was a different man: he meditated a lot and even considered entering a monastery. Undoubtedly, at some point he'd started to regret his deeds. And it was not just a foolishness of youth; after all, he'd been almost fifty when the daimyō had decided to send him away. It was what had sobered him... but Tsunamoto sometimes thought bitterly that it was too late.

He'd never wanted to be like his father. He'd come to Yonezawa-jō to serve the Date clan, like his family had done for generations. He yearned to gain recognition of the daimyō and his senior retainers, he did all his best to become a model samurai... but he just couldn't. Whenever he introduced himself, people fell silent and gave him those scrutinizing looks before they averted their eyes. Wherever he went, he could hear the whispers behind his back, although no-one ever said anything to his face. No matter how he tried, it was never good. He felt alienated - and could there be anything worse for a man? He failed to imagine this.

In the end, he ceased looking people in the eye. He walked with his gaze fixed on some distant point, holding his head up, hard as it was. His pride was his only support, but he didn't have much of it anyway. He used to tell himself he had to be patient... That in time people would start respecting him and stop seeing him through his father's image. But it could take many years... and he wasn't sure he would manage for so long.

The only thing he could do was to be on his best behaviour. If Oniniwa Yoshinao had a reputation of a libertine, Oniniwa Tsunamoto had to become a paragon of samurai virtue. His father had become 'famous' for his constant affairs with ladies, maids and servant, leading to many tragedies and begetting many children he had never acknowledged. He'd also divorced his first wife when she hadn't given him a son but merely a daughter, never caring what fate would befall them. In this respect, Tsunamoto's mother had been fortunate - but should he really speak of fortune as she had died from sorrow when he was still a little child? Father's first wife had found a man who'd taken her in, giving her daughter a name - so maybe it was she who had been fortunate, not Tsunamoto's mother who couldn't bear the shame?

Shame... It had been accompanying him even since he'd been to little to understand its meaning. He remembered his mother, always in tears, always avoiding people - oh, how he sympathised with her now! Once he'd grown a bit, he'd promised himself he would never, ever, follow in his father's footsteps and would do anything to clear Oniniwa name. Since he'd arrived in Yonezawa-jō, he hadn't spare a single look at any girl, and he didn't intend to. He'd focused on his duties - few as they were, for he was never being given any responsible tasks - and spared no efforts to fulfil them as best as he could.

Yet, whenever possible, he would come here, to train alone and far from those sharp eyes of the people in the castle. Here, by the edge of the forest surrounding Yonezawa, he could calm down. He was close enough to rush to the castle if anything happened - but far enough so that no-one disturbed him. A stream flowing nearby formed a small bay. The fireweeds were swaying over the water, and the birds were singing in the trees. It was a perfect place for a practice. He didn't even need to meditate, for it was easy to relax here - and sometimes even to forget his difficult situation.

Usually, he would practise the basic swings and only sometimes do more complex moves. The time would fly fast as he cleared his mind and focused only on strikes. Forward and backward, up and down, step ahead and step back. Nothing more that that. Very simple moves he could repeat for hours. One day he would have to prove himself, so he had to train a lot in order to win Lord Terumune's respect. Forward and backward, up and down, step ahead and step forward...

The day was very hot. Around noon he was drenched with sweat as if he had just left from a sauna. The stream tempted with its cold water, so he didn't think twice. He got undressed and dived to cleanse his body and soul. After the bath, he put on the hakama, leaving the shirt on the stone, and resumed his training. Today, he could spend a whole day here, and he planned to make use of it.

A rustle came from the fireweeds. _Some animal_, he thought, never stopping his practice. However, the sound repeated... and then, all of the sudden, a head appeared among the pink flowers. Tsunamoto lowered his sword. The head... or, rather, its owner rubbed his eyes, blinked and yawned, and then looked at him.

"Good morning," he said and rose.

"It's past noon already," Tsunamoto replied automatically, giving the stranger an astonished look.

"Then, good afternoon," corrected the one, yawned and got out of the flowers. And then he sat down again.

He could be two or three years younger than Tsunamoto, much skinnier and somewhat bruised. His clothing, definitely of a samurai, was jagged - but what samurai would hide in the field of the fireweed next to the castle of the daimyō? Also his haircut intended he had yet to undergo a genpuku. His black hair was wavy on his forehead, and the rest of it, tied on the top of his head, fell loosely on his back. At the moment, that tail was full of leaves that the youth, after another yawn, began to pick out, not caring about the general situation or the place.

After a while of combing his hair with his fingers, he raised his head and looked at Tsunamoto, who stood mutely and only stared at him, unable to do anything sensible.

"I didn't mean to interrupt you," the boy said and waved at him encouragingly. He seemed still a bit foggy with sleep. "Methinks you were training," he added and yawned again. Then, however, his gaze got sharper, and he looked Tsunamoto up and down. "Are you a samurai from Yonezawa-jō?" he asked, lowering his hands; apparently, his toilette was done.

Tsunamoto nodded.

"But you don't look as bad as the others," the boy added in a critical tone although that opinion was in Tsunamoto's favour. It seemed he already abandoned caution. "Father ordered me to familiarize myself with the castle since I'm going to serve Lord Terumune once I'm done with a genpuku," he explained and, once he started talking, didn't plan to stop. "But I don't like it there, they treat me like a child... All right, I iam/i just thirteen and not a grown-up yet, but please... No, I don't like the place, and I don't want to come here. I can serve Lord Terumune from afar, while my father is here. It's a fair agreement, isn't it? Yesterday I got into a brawl with some folks. Five of them and I alone, but two ended with their ribs bruised, the third one won't see in one eye for at least a week, the fourth one lost one tooth, and the last one won't be able to use his right hand for a while. I figured out that my father wouldn't be pleased with me, so I decided to wait the storm out here. Today I'm already leaving home, and then I have to go and study doctrine under the tutelage of masters of Senshō-ji. Sometimes I wonder whether father wants that I become a samurai or rather a monk. I've been stuck in there for two years already. You've said that it's past noon? Damn, in the hour of the Goat we were to be riding," the boy finished, but it was probably only due to another yawning spell. Despite his words, he didn't seem like a person who is in hurry, and he wasn't preparing to leave either.

Tsunamoto blinked, wondering fleetingly if the youth was really done. He didn't know how to react to that strange creature that had appeared before him unawares and summarized half of his life in just a moment. "You were here?" he asked hesitantly. "Since yesterday?"

The boy nodded. "You can see the castle pretty well from here. I could always rush there if anything happens," he said. "But I don't want to go there. Are you living there?" he asked, giving him another scrutinizing look. "What do you think of that place?"

"What..." Tsunamoto started and fell silent.

How could he answer? The truth and only truth? Something in him objected... revolted at the thought... and it took him a while to realize that, for some reason, he didn't want to give a bad image of Yonezawa-jō to that boy. To the contrary, he wanted to convince him... to come back. He wanted him to want to come back.

"I think... some good things happen there, too," he replied but didn't really believed his own words.

The youth frowned and gave him an intent look. It could be that he saw through his lies... well, at least through such a partial truth. Tsunamoto clenched his jaw. In the end, he was far from the ideal of a samurai if he could so easily lie to a child - even if that child wasn't to be easily deceived, but it was not a point here. He turned his eyes, suddenly anger at himself. His hair was almost dry; he could tie it again. He reached for a strap and put it around his unruly mane. He pulled at the ends, trying to tighten the tie... and the strap burst under his fingers. He was standing with two parts of the leather in his hands and feeling like a prize fool, though he didn't know why.

"Please, use mine," he heard behind his back.

He turned. The slim fingers of the boy were already undoing the tie on the top of his head, and in the next moment the black hair fell down along his face, reaching to his waist. The boy offered him a cord... but Tsunamoto was thunderstruck and totally unable to move. The youth took his hand back and then frowned again but didn't avert his eyes.

As in a dream, Tsunamoto sat down in front of him and grasped a strand of his hair. They were even more smooth to the touch they appeared. His fingers trembling, he touched the boy's face. The boy blinked but was still looking him in the face, his dark eyes serious and mature. Maybe he was right speaking he shouldn't be treated like a child? His skin was warm, and he smelled of the soil, flowers and forest air, and he seemed ready for anything life could offer him - contrary to Tsunamoto, who didn't even dare to look people in the eye. Suddenly he seemed everything Tsunamoto had never been and would never be... but it didn't really matter. What mattered was that he was here, next to him, looking at him and seeing him, and for some reason it felt good... being different from the looks in the castle. He was seeing him and didn't look at anything else, as if Tsunamoto filled his whole world, and the very thought was intoxicating. He was so innocent, yet he seemed to know everything, and Tsunamoto thought he no longer knew which one of them was younger and which one was older. The only thing he wished was to get closer, touch the youth more, taste his lips... so close... He was absolutely sure that with this boy he didn't need to feel ashamed of anything...

_Shame._

A cold shiver ran through his body, and Tsunamoto turned away - right as the boy reached to his face but was too late... and his fingers only brushed the damp mop... Tsunamoto lowered his head, clenching his jaw and shutting his eyes tight. Suddenly, he felt like vanishing into thin air.

He was no better, that realization struck him like a hammer. He was no better than his father. There was the same curse... the same lust in his blood... to defile what was innocent. It was so easy. All it took was to reach, let himself go, follow his instincts, not control them. So this was how his father had felt all that time? For the first time in his life, Tsunamoto thought he could understand him. Not entirely and not in everything, but a little. They were both wicked. Tsunamoto had no right to consider himself superior. It hurt - and filled him with bitterness and disappointment... and disgust...

He quivered when slim fingers tickled his neck, pulling the cord under his hair and gathering it together. He didn't dare to turn, he was a coward... but he could as well keep the last of his honour. A warm hand rested on his shoulder, and then soft hair brushed against his arm, making him twitch again. With hesitation, the boy's lips touched his temple, light as a butterfly.

"I think... I'll come back to Yonezawa-jō," said the youth quietly. "Yes, I'll be back for sure," he added whole-heartedly as if he had just made his decision. Then his fingers shivered, but he didn't take his hand back. "If it's with you, I'll be all right, but... Will you... wait for me?" he asked, and now there was an anxiety in his voice that had not been there before.

Tsunamoto felt as if everything had vanished, all that chaos filling him only a moment ago, that shame and disgust, and self-contempt. It was so strange, so unusual... and so natural. Either he was the most despicable man in the world or... he wasn't - only a man who could hope for some happiness that everyone had a right to. It felt easier to breathe now, and his heart was no longer pounding so hard. Maybe he wasn't a villain, after all.

The boy's question was still ringing in the air. Tsunamoto nodded. The hand disappeared from his shoulder, but he grasped it and turned. The boy was standing over him, his long hair encircling his slender frame. His face was serious, but something was burning in his eyes. He squeezed his fingers, and Tsunamoto felt like never breaking the contact.

"What will be your name once you're back?" he whispered, unable to took his eyes off that being that had changed his life in just a few moments.

The youth made a face. "My father is Motonobu, so that will be something similar," ha answered without any respect. "It would be convenient to honour both him and the Date in the same breath."

"Maybe Munenobu?" Tsunamoto threw without as much as a though.

The boy gave him a respectful look. "Munenobu," he repeated. "I like it. Then, Endō Munenobu. You saved me trouble, thank you. And you?"

"Oniniwa Tsunamoto," he muttered, refraining from lowering his eyes.

"It sounds very good," the boy replied seriously and freed his hand from the grip. Then he smiled, for the first time, albeit shyly. "Then, see you again... Tsunamoto-san," he said and bowed.

Tsunamoto got up and bowed too. The boy tucked a strand of his hair behind his ear, and a slight blush coloured his cheeks. "I'll mention you to my father. Or, maybe, you're already friends...?" Tsunamoto shook his head. Of course, he knew Endō Motonobu-dono, whom Terumune-sama trusted like no-one. Now that he thought about it, Endō-dono always regarded him with some respect. "Father always laments, saying I lack the dignity of a samurai, so I'm sure he will be thrilled to spend some time with such a walking perfection like you. Of course, it will not benefit me, quite the contrary, but I'm sure I'll manage. If my pops is happy, then it's all that matters. He always sweats to much," he added, and now there was irritation mixed with affection in his voice.

Unexpectedly, Tsunamoto felt like smiling, and he didn't remember the last time he did so. "Then, maybe I should behave less properly?" he asked although such thing wouldn't have occurred to him only a moment ago.

The youth looked at him, titling his head... and then, without warning, he came closer and kissed his lips before stepping back again. Tsunamoto's eyes grew wide.

"No. When I'm back in Yonezawa-jō, one of us will have to be decent, and you are better fitted," the boy said with dreamy eyes.

Then he turned away and ran through the high grass and fireweeds towards the castle, never looking back. Tsunamoto followed his slender frame with his eyes until he could no longer see him. He remained looking at the vast plain surrounding the daimyō's stronghold and trying to put the world in order again.

It seemed everything was like usual. As if what had just happened was only an illusion. The grass stopped swaying, the stream murmured like it always did, and the birds were singing like they had been doing an hour before - but he could still feel the touch of lips on his own, and his hair were tied by a cord that hadn't been there before, making him believe it was all real.

Maybe he would soon feel disappointed. Maybe he would be filled with longing and even sadness - that it was all over and he was alone again - but at this moment he was still relishing that encounter, something he could have never imagined. Even if it was all over, even if it had happened and passed, he realized his life would never be the same. It would be better. It was only a beginning of something great, something that was yet to come - with... Munenobu. He already knew that waiting would give him strength, for the very thought made him smile.

He looked at the frame of Yonezawa-jō, soaring into the azure sky and being illuminated by the sun, and realized that for the first time he could return there with a light heart.


End file.
